


Different Path, Different Story

by VenomQuill



Series: A Different Path to a Different Story and a Different End [1]
Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Choose Your Own Adventure, F/M, Hoyt is a legitimate male name that means stick in Middle English, I had to make up family for the kids, Kid Henry being adopted into the Toppats AU, M/M, Most ships begin at the end so I won't tag them, Other minor Government, Other minor Toppats, Reginald before he was chief, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 44
Words: 140,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26416846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenomQuill/pseuds/VenomQuill
Summary: Henry Stickmin is an eleven-year-old, thieving escape-artist who has long since given up on the idea of adoption.Reginald Copperbottom is a well established, well-respected executive in the Toppat Air Division. Being second-in-command to the current chief, finding viable recruits is important. Apparently, adopting is a creative solution. Toppats come from all walks of life, after all.That means raising a kid. Who knew?
Relationships: Reginald Copperbottom/Right Hand Man
Series: A Different Path to a Different Story and a Different End [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972558
Comments: 397
Kudos: 631





	1. Red Mesa

The dust laden wind slipped between buildings and down the street, peppering the perpetually pale and dirty streets with yet more dust. The blazing sun high above warmed the heads and necks of those unlucky enough to stay beneath its glare for longer than the minute or so it took to hop from an air-conditioned car to an air-conditioned building.

A few cars scattered through the short parking lot before the squat building. While most buildings nearby were busy with customers searching for books or clothes or school supplies, this particularly dreary building was void of shoppers. “Red Mesa Orphanage.” The sign held quiet and faded over the entrance of the quiet and faded building.

A car clear of dust, perhaps due to its origin being of the inner city where the dust upon the wind was too heavy to reach, parked near the sad old building. Its red metal pelt glared in the sharp light. Its growl dimmed into a low purr, which soon tapered off. Three doors popped open. The driver pulled himself out of his seat, taking care to set his dark gray top hat down to replace him. A breeze mockingly hot ruffled his expensive suit and his curled mustache. He looked to the two who had climbed out on the right side of the car, his best friend as well as a trustworthy crew member.

The ginger man that stepped from the passenger seat messed with the collar of his shirt, which quietly ruffled itself in the breeze that tugged at it and his handlebar mustache. “Reg?”

“Just keep a look out, you two,” Reginald said with a lofty wave of his hand as they walked. “We have everything we need, but anything can change.”

The black-haired lady that followed shut her door and walked with pride by Reginald’s left, his right side being taken by Right Hand Man, the most loyal member of the Clan and most trustworthy, in Reginald’s opinion. Well, it couldn’t be opinion if it was fact.

Carol stated, “Why a kid, though? We can recruit a teenager fresh out of high school if you’re looking for young. I don’t know why; most recruits are already _at least_ in their twenties. For a reason.”

“Howie Howitzer has been showing potential. We need a good kid to compete,” Reginald stated. “I’m Mr. Suave’s second in command–” Reginald put down the disdain he felt at the simple statement. “–so, it’s my job–and thus _ours_ –to get a viable recruit. What better place to find a child uninterested in the law than a place like this?”

His friend gave them a short, hardly visible nod. “It’s true what they say about those kids,” said Right Hand Man, his English accent only slightly thicker than Reginald’s. “’owie will not live up to ’is name, but this one will.”

Carol scoffed but made no further objections. Instead, when Reginald opened the door to let them into the ragged building, she put on a soft smile and took Reginald by the hand, intertwining her fingers with his. When they were within earshot of the receptionist, she whined, tears welling in her round blue eyes. “Oh, look at this place, Dear! It’s simply _awful!_ ”

The lady at the desk looked up at them, though the motion was slow and her eyes dull. “Who’re you?” She looked him over, her eyes lingering on his well-groomed suit.

Reginald stopped by the front desk, smiling. “Raymond Smith. This is my wife, Camilla, and my brother, Hoyt. We have been waiting for some time.”

The woman at the desk started, but quickly composed herself. “One of those foreign types? What’re you doing out here?” She interrupted herself before any of them could speak. “Kids are out playing, just got home from their last day of school. Who’re you?”

Reginald bit back a sigh and repeated his introduction. For a while, the only incompetence he had tolerated and thus thought about came from their current leader, Terrence Suave. But incompetence and slowness could come from anywhere, he supposed. What he expected from some ho-dunk in the middle of nowhere claiming to be part of New Mexico was nothing too high to begin with.

The woman shot one last look at Carol and then Reginald’s “brother,” who was giving her a hard, impatient stare, before looking under her desk and sifting through papers. A few excruciatingly long minutes later–did these people live in the 20th century? Was there no computer or tablet they could use?–her head poked up from under the desk and she sat up straight. She set the stack down and flipped through a few pages. “Raymond and Camilla Smith?”

He put on a charming smile. “Yes.”

“We are,” Carol, who had long since dried her crocodile tears, agreed.

The lady at the desk looked at them and then her papers. “It says you live in… Santa Fe, New Mexico? You don’t sound like _those_ city types.”

Carol chuckled. “Hon, Brits _never_ lose their silly accents. But we do live in Santa Fe.”

“We have for years,” Reginald agreed, albeit a little more sharply than he intended.

Surprisingly, the woman huffed and gave her a short nod. “Right. Well, come with me, I suppose.” She pushed herself up from her desk and hobbled down the hall.

It did not take very long for them enter a small room made smaller by clutter that could be considered furniture and décor if one had never seen real décor and instead read about it an old story book. Everything from fake plants to magazines cluttered end tables while scenic landscapes of deserts and coastlines choked the beige, floral wallpaper peeling in places.

“Wait here,” commanded the woman without looking back at them before vanishing through one of the doors.

Carol let out a short sigh through her teeth, ripping her hand out of Reginald’s and sitting down. “We’re really choosing a kid from _here?_ ”

Reginald found himself in one of the hard-plastic chairs that spawned in waiting rooms. “Yes. I know it’s a good idea. But we can move to different places if we don’t find anyone promising here.”

Right Hand Man sat beside him, looking to the door from which they entered. He was rather calm, but just as relaxed as an underpaid employee who’d fallen into a tiger pit. Reginald couldn’t fault the man; places like these were way too underfunded, making them prime targets for criminals and thus prime stakeouts for government.

The next door from their exit opened a crack. Reginald didn’t turn around, but both he and his right hand looked back out of the corner of their eyes. A few children, fourteen to fifteen, stacked up on top of each other to get a good look at them through the two inches of space between the door and door jam. One was a blonde boy staring at them with wide green eyes. Below him, the two others looked up at the taller boy and the door shut.

_“Pretty intimidating.”_

_“That guy’s so tall!”_

_“Dude, they’re_ loaded. _Someone’ll be set for life.”_

_“Not if they get-get killed or something! They could be, like, criminals or businessmen or politicians!”_

_“Dude, they can’t be in the Mafia. Didn’t you hear them talking? Only Americans and Italians are in the mafia. That’s what all the cop shows say.”_

_“I can’t live with a politician, dude.”_

_“Yeah, they’d have to take his picture, and everyone’d get turned to sto–ow!”_

Carol put a hand to her mouth to stifle a snicker.

_“Shhh! They can hear you, stupid!”_

_“Fuck! Oh no. What if they don’t like cursing? What if they complain to her?”_

_“Oh my God, if they’re politicians they curse a lot, anyway.”_

Then, all three voices raised in groans. _“Ugh, get_ out _of here, twerp.”_

_“…”_

_“Well? Shoo! No one wants you here!”_

Reginald put on a sour expression. Ah, yes. Kids could be absolutely evil to each other.

_“Aw, Jerry, don’t talk like that! C’mon, Henry. What do you want?”_

_“…”_

_“Mason, you’re stupid. No one wants that creepy kid here.”_

_“He’s not creepy…”_

_“He steals literally everything he sees. Hey! Step back, weirdo!”_

_“Shut up, Jerry. Hey, Henry…”_ Mason’s voice lowered even further.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open. A kid younger than the lot, twelve, perhaps, slunk out from the door. The thin little thing didn’t look back once as he approached the adults. His scruffy clothes complimented the hopelessly messy curls on his head ensnaring dirt and dust, probably from the wind though some most likely came from the ground as well.

“And who are you?” Reginald asked, forcing a small bit of cheer into his voice.

The boy looked up at them with owlish eyes but stayed silent. He rocked on his feet and pointed back.

He looked up at Right Hand Man and pointed more insistently, this time tugging the hem of his thin jacket. “What do you want, kid?”

The boy pouted. Then, he bolted, running for the end of the hall where the boys huddled. He didn’t quite get there as Right Hand Man grabbed him by the forearm quicker than lightning. The boy let out a little yelp and instantly looked back.

“What do you–”

The boy held out a phone, eyes still on his feet.

“–’ave, boy?” Right Hand Man raised an eyebrow and pocketed the piece of technology.

Reginald couldn’t help but feel a little impressed. He hadn’t seen the boy take anything. In fact, he hadn’t seen him _do_ anything than attempt to get their attention.

The door on the opposite end of the hallway opened. The woman’s smile immediately turned into a scowl. For a moment, Reginald was afraid she was going to snap at the man holding Henry hostage. “Henry Stickmin, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Stealing,” he mumbled, his voice monotone.

She started to speak, glanced at the adults, and then pointed back the way she came. “Go to time out. We’ll talk about this later.”

Right Hand Man let go. Henry slunk past her, head retreating into his shoulders and feet scraping the ground like a beaten dog. Her arm twitched, but the woman managed to not raise her hand to smack him. When the door shut, she cleared her throat and smiled. “I’m sorry about that. You know boys. Gets into all kinds of trouble.” She chuckled and went on, “Anyway, I just wanted to talk to you for a little while about the home life! We love all of our children dearly and we believe they all deserve the best homes. Here, let’s sit down while we talk.”

Then, they were sitting, and they were talking. And talking. And _talking._ The woman had a lot of breath in her, that was for certain. Still, they had long since memorized their “jobs,” “skills,” and “backgrounds.” Criminals in the Toppat Clan were very unlikely to gain permission to adopt, after all. Still, didn’t she read all this in the paperwork Mac Dandy spent hours filling out?

A bell chimed through the building. Her head snapped back toward the door on the other end of the hall and then back to them. “Oh, it’s dinner time! The little ones should be eating. I’ve talked for so long, I’m so sorry. I’ll go talk to the ladies and see if we can meet after dinner. Do you want to join us?”

“No. No, thank you,” Reginald denied, attempting not to think about what atrocities they would see if they approached the dining hall. When she left, he said, “We can talk to Mr. Thicc later.” The thought of flying back to the ship and having a juicy steak or heavy bowl of stew and a side of corn and carrots and… “We won’t be here much longer,” Reginald reassured them.

“I ’ope not,” Right Hand Man commented, again staring at their exit. Then, as if he could _sense_ the uneasiness he was perpetuating, he continued, “It’s steak night.”

Carol groaned with a dramatic roll of her eyes, “Oh, please don’t. I haven’t eaten all day. Breakfast goes so fast when you’re chasing down two meat heads tripping over their tails to break as much protocol as possible as fast as they can.”

Reginald watched the door the boy, Henry, and then the headmistress used. He turned back to his best friend. “That Henry boy. How did he do it?”

“No idea,” the man relented. “Must’ve got ’is ’and under my coat when ’e tugged at it. Stupid kid. ’E’s got some skills, though.”

Carol gave him a flat look. “Do you think just because some little brat tried, and failed, to steal from you, that makes him Toppat material?”

“The kid’s got skills for an eleven-year-old,” Right Hand Man argued, his voice gruff but not raising an octave. “With the right training, ’e should be valuable.”

“Possibly,” Reginald agreed. “We need to check with the other kids. Maybe he’ll be there.”

Carol stuck in, “Do kids in time out get to meet people who might adopt them?”

Wordlessly, Reginald took out his phone and checked through his e-mail. _Five more orphanages to go if this was a bust._

“Hello?”

They looked up from their quiet, agitated scheming to see the woman in charge of the children, or so they assumed. “’Ello,” Right Hand Man responded.

The headmistress hummed, “Dinner time is over, and the kids get another couple of hours of play time before bed. Would you like to see them?”

Reginald got to his feet first, though it wasn’t as if Right Hand Man and Carol were reluctant to move, either. “Yes, we would. How many are there?”

“Oh, we have about two dozen little bundles of sunshine living here,” she informed them as they walked, pushing through the door at the end of the hallway. “Most of them are little tots, but there are a few teenagers milling about here. I’m sorry, our eldest are a little shy around adults. But they’ll warm up!”

They entered one of the larger rooms in the buildings. More of the obnoxious floral wallpaper covered the walls. Natural light from the large window, mostly obscured by pink and yellow curtains, warmed the large room made small by people and objects. A few tables, some squat and colorful and others taller and sterile gray, spotted the north side of the room, while buckets and chests of toys bristled along the eastern wall. Children, ranging from a petite four-year-old girl to a lanky sixteen-year-old boy, peppered the room. Aside from a young teen boy who sat cross-legged with about four small kids around him, they tended to stay with their age groups.

As the door opened and the headmistress led the three foreign faces inside, all eyes turned up to meet them. The headmistress hummed and clapped her hands together. “Good evening, children~! This is Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and Mr. Smith. Now, go back to playing, we’ll all get to talk and have a really nice time, okay?”

The kids went back to what they were doing, for the most part. The trio of young teen boys shuffled further toward the emptier northeastern corner. The boy with the kids patted the younger ones’ shoulders and called their names to grab their attention.

Indeed, they were able to get around the room, and talk to the various kids there. Though many were rather shy, they still did talk. Unfortunately, they were all too… something. Timid, disinterested, and frankly too young to tell were a few things prevalent with them.

“Oh! Sorry, Mrs. Smith!” The boy covered in little ones sucked in his breath. “Come here, Amelia! You can’t eat people’s clothes, it’s bad!”

The little four-year-old girl who Carol had been trying to fight off perked up and waddled over to him. “Brother! She’s shiny!”

The boy picked her up and grinned. “Sorry, Mrs. Smith. Amelia really likes shiny things. She’s like a little goat!”

“Baaa!”

“I wanna be a goat!” a little boy at his side complained. Soon, all three other children were bleating.

Reginald nodded. “Ah, yes. I don’t understand.”

The boy explained, “Yeah, I’m James. This is Amelia, Richard, Holly, and Harry. Say hello!” Various hellos chorused from the little ones. “I’ve been here for about ten years. So, I’ve seen all these little munchkins come and some of them go! Oh, no! Harry, no!” James, upon seeing the six-year-old Harry run off, chased after him. “Put that down, Harry! Don’t eat bugs!”

The only child that _didn’t_ directly interact with them was not currently there. Carol asked, “Why is that?”

The headmistress chuckled. “Oh, he’s in time-out right now. You know how boys are. He’s picked up a few really bad habits. But don’t worry! We believe that all children are little angels, sometimes you just need to brush away little dirt to see those halos on their heads.”

Her smile froze as they heard yelling in the hall.

One of the doors opened and in came a harrowed lady, her messy hair and sleepless eyes adding years that didn’t belong to her. “Heeee… uh! Mrs. Bloodworth, I’m so sorry! I’ll be ba–”

“Sherly!” The headmistress, Mrs. Bloodworth, hummed. “Darling, what happened?”

“Uh, well, I gathered up all the children here… and, uh… I left Henry in time-out.” Sherly didn’t look Mrs. Bloodworth in the eyes as she continued, “He didn’t do anything _wrong_ per-say, but, um… I can’t, well, you know him. I can’t, uh, find him.”

The headmistress sighed through her teeth. “Then go find him, Sherly, darling.”

One of the ladies piped up, “Did you try the kitchen?”

Another chipped in, “Or Mrs. Bloodworth’s office?”

A third said, “I sometimes find him in the closet!”

A fourth put in, “I once found him in the back of the janitor’s car.” The first three gave her a weird look and she shrugged.

Sherly gave them a tired smile and thumbs up and moved back out. “Henry!” they heard her call, her voice quieting as she moved down the hall. “Henry, come out now and I’ll give you cookies…!”

Mrs. Bloodworth turned back to them and was again smiling peacefully. “I’m sorry about that. Kids can make life interesting, hmm? Now, I’m deeply sorry about the wait and all that. I hope that you find your special little someone soon.”

“No. The little one, Henry?” Reginald prompted.

Her smile faltered. “Oh, don’t worry. We punished him. He’s in trouble for stealing and he won’t do it to you again.”

Reginald shook his head. “Yes, well, my wife and brother agreed that we would like to talk to him. How long has he been here?”

The woman blinked, her smile momentarily lost. “U-uh, well, little Henry, um,” she cleared her throat and chuckled. “I’m sorry, no one has ever asked about our little boy. He’s been here, uh, nine years, I think. It’s hard to keep track of so many children. I can check. But do you truly want to see him?” Her voice slowed down a little near the end.

Carol chimed in, “Oh of course! The poor little boy must just be troubled. Oh, my little brother was the _same way._ Trust me, we get it.”

Reginald nodded. “Yes, precisely.”

The woman hummed. “Well, I certainly would never bar a kid from finding their forever parents. I’ll go grab him. Why don’t you wait in the waiting area until I get back?” Mrs. Bloodworth left without a single other word uttered.

James helpfully chipped in, “Henry’s been here for nine years. But, uh… he’s also escaped eleven times. He’s kinda nice, I guess, if you get to know him.”

One of the teen boys called, “You’d know, gay boy!”

Immediately, one of the ladies nearby started chastising the boy, Jerry.

Right Hand Man shook his head a little and Reginald couldn’t help a small sigh of resignation as they went back to the hideous little cell someone decided to label as a waiting room.

It wasn’t long before the woman was back, smile brimming with joy, one hand clasping Henry’s wrist. The boy struggled to keep up, his hand limp in her grip and his round, worried blue eyes on his stumbling feet. She stopped and he nearly jerked out of her iron grip. “Henry, this is Mr. and Mrs. Smith and, uh, Mr. Smith’s brother. Why don’t you get to know them a little bit? Don’t worry, they won’t bite.” She patted him on the back to scoot him closer to them. Henry stiffened but didn’t look back at her. Instead, he took a few mechanical steps forward where he didn’t seem to bend his knees.

“Hello there, Henry,” Reginald greeted, smiling. “I’m Raymond. Mr. Smith.”

“Hello,” he mumbled, looking around at the trio, but soon focusing on Reginald.

Reginald introduced Carol and Right Hand Man. Henry said the same line.

The headmistress hummed, “I better check back on the kids. Have fun, and don’t be rude, Henry! Look at them when they talk to you! He’s a shy kid. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you in no time. Won’t you, little Henry?” She ruffled his head, grimaced as her fingers got tangled in his curly hair, and walked away with a few new strands of dirty hair in her nails.

“Sorry,” he muttered, staring Reginald straight in the eyes.

“Right. Eh, how old are you?”

“Eleven. Sorry I took your phone, Mr. Hoyt.”

Carol cooed, clasping her hands together. “Aren’t you cute!”

Henry shot a wary glance her way and his voice quieted again. “Okay.”

Some more time of questioning drew Henry out little by little, though any time Carol spoke a word he retreated again. Carol eventually stopped talking and stood up straight, stuffing one of her hands in her purse again.

Henry looked between them. He shuffled his feet, looked back, and then turned back to them. Then, he lowered his voice. “Hey, I know you’re just talking to me to look good, but when you leave, could you open the lock on the gate?”

“Why would I do that?” asked Reginald.

Henry pulled something out of his pocket and offered it to Reginald. “That old lady locked up my scooter.” Reginald started to take the waded up twenty-dollar bill, but Henry pulled it back, so it was out of reach. “Promise.”

Carol chuckled, “That was actually kind of cute. I’ll admit, I did not expect an eleven-year-old to try to bribe us today.”

Reginald held up his hand. “No, Henry. We don’t take bribes.”

Henry thought for a moment and stuffed the bill back into his pocket. “You’ll still open the lock, though, right?”

“James told us you escaped eleven times.”

“You would, too!” Henry burst out. “It’s crazy here! The _only_ reason she caught me last time was because she booted my scooter. But I got the boot off.” He glanced behind himself and clasped his hands behind his back.

Then, the door opened, and the woman was there again. “It’s time for bed. I’m sure you three are awfully tired. So are you Henry. Right, Henry?”

Henry yawned obediently.

“Unless…? Did you have a nice chat?” the woman asked, wearing a cheerful grin.

“He is… sporting,” Reginald agreed, sorely hoping he was using the right lingo.

Carol hummed, “He’s a smart little gentleman.”

“Oh, he’s a very smart boy!” The woman agreed, patting Henry on the head. The boy flinched, as if trying to both duck his head and keep himself standing up straight at the same time. “Where are you staying? Do you want to come back in the morning or do you need to head home soon?”

Before Reginald could answer, Carol chipped in, “Don’t we need to fill out more paperwork? I read that this wasn’t it on the website.”

The woman scoffed and waved her hand. “Oh, that silly website is very old. Don’t worry, we have all the information we need. Little Henry is so lonely, and you three look like respectable people! I’m sure you’ll make brilliant parents, and an uncle. See, Henry? Most kids only get a Mom and Dad! You should feel special.”

“Okay,” Henry mumbled.

Reginald looked at her and then glanced at his partner and friend. Right Hand Man stared right back, unmoving. Reginald smiled and turned back to the woman. “It will be nice to get back home tonight.” Henry stared at Reginald.

Carol smiled at Henry. “Oh, isn’t this just exciting! Our very first child! We are going to have so much fun together!”

The woman grinned wider. “Oh, good! I’m sure Henry is in good hands. Now, grab your things, Henry. And _only_ your things. If any of the other kids ‘los–er, just be careful you don’t mix up your stuff with someone else’s.”

“Okay.” Just like that, Henry was gone.

The woman led them back into the front area. From there, it was only a few minutes of signing a rather short legal document declaring their new status as the mother and father of Henry ~~Stickmin~~ Smith. Henry came back, a half-full backpack slung over his shoulders. A light blue scooter was folded and held over his shoulder. Mrs. Bloodworth trilled a “goodbye” as they left.

Then, they were outside. The long shadows hid their car from the dying sun. Henry hopped into the seat behind Reginald’s–Right Hand Man’s, now, as he drove–seat when they reached their car. He shifted uncomfortably when Carol entered and he looked out the window into the street, completely opposite of the orphanage. He gripped his backpack tight in his arms like any kid would a stuffed animal or small blanket. His scooter sat snugly in the trunk. “You didn’t need to do this. I could probably get to Arizona on my own.”

Reginald held onto his top hat, while Right Hand Man already put his back on. “What are you talking about, Henry?”

“You don’t actually want me, right?”

“Actually, we had our own plans. You see, Henry, we came here looking for viable recruits for the Toppat Clan.” Henry cocked his head a little. Reginald, with a bit of an exaggerated flourish, put his dark gray top hat back on. “We are Toppats! We’re a clan of thieves who take what we want to make our lives better away from the meddling and rules of the government who thinks they know what’s what better than we do.”

Saying that Henry looked like a confused owl was a rather funny understatement. Then, a slight smile foreign to the boy’s features creeped up on him. “Am I going to be an outlaw and a famous really cool criminal?”

“If you do well and you stay with us. You already show some skill. With training, no doubt.”

Henry grinned, an action that disarmed Reginald. “Thanks Mr. Smith! I’m going to be the best!”

“It’s ‘Copperbottom.’ Henry, we lied to that woman about a lot of things.”

Henry’s grin turned mischievous. “I did, too. Let’s go, Dad! I wanna learn all about being a criminal! I’ll be the best!”

“Reginald,” Reginald corrected. “You will be raised by everyone here. We are a group of thieves, but the Toppat Clan is a family for life.”

“Okay, Dad Reginald. Is Uncle Hoyt your brother?”

“No. Right Hand Man isn’t.”

“Is Mrs. Smith your wife?”

Carol chipped in, “Of course not.”

“No, Carol is not,” Reginald agreed. “She is a high-ranking executive in the Toppats, like myself and Right Hand Man.”

Henry thought for a moment. “You don’t have to listen to anyone?”

“Precisely!”

The drive from the orphanage to the outskirts of town was rather swift. Parked miles away from the small settlement was a large, seed-shaped pod with a window in the front. Henry stared at the object with unblinking eyes. Reginald was the first to get out, with Carol dawdling behind only long enough to pat Henry on the shoulder and disturb him from his frozen curiosity. Henry immediately got out and ran to Reginald’s side. He started to grasp the man’s jacket, but instead kept his hands to himself. He gave a sideways glance at Right Hand Man to whom he also walked quite close.

Reginald tapped a few buttons on the face of the pod. A section of the red metal with the glass pane popped open, revealing some room with seats, harnesses, and a panel of buttons and screens. Henry clung to his backpack and now his scooter, as Right Hand Man popped open the trunk for him. Henry glanced back at the grounded vehicle but entered the foreign machine without assistance.

The small space got smaller as all four people were now inside and the door shut.

Reginald asked as he tapped a few more buttons in the inside of the pod, “Have you ever been in the air?”

Henry shook his head.

“Well, we are taking this pod to the airship.”

Henry’s eyes went wide. “Airship?”

“That is where we live, and where you will live.”

Henry’s mouth moved, but no air escaped his lungs and thus no words were formed. Then, the machine let out a little shudder before launching itself off the ground. Henry clapped his hand over his mouth as he let out a squeal of shock and then quickly looked around to see who’d noticed. Of course, all of them did.

Reginald couldn’t help the twinge of amusement and curiosity. After the initial shock, the boy didn’t flinch as the ground descended far, far below them. Reginald had long since gotten used to the air, being in the Air Division since he joined the Toppats and having been on a few airplanes and helicopters even before then. That is, with his first time on a commercial airline being rather harrowing for a child. The stupid woman next to him successfully scaring child Reginald into thinking their plane would crash never failed to put a scowl on his face.

He heard a small gasp. The pod turned and there it was. The massive red aircraft hovered high above, four propellers keeping it aloft like a helicopter. The pod slowed and lowered into the top of the airship, where a panel just wide enough to fit the circumference of the pod opened.

The pod door opened. Carol left as soon as she could. _Women_. Henry took Reginald by the sleeve as they left. Maybe… Reginald should have left the adoption to another crew member. He wasn’t going to see the last of the kid, was he? Though, if he was right, perhaps this would not be such a bad thing after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my ridiculous take on this AU! Technically? Well, I saw it, decided I loved it and went with it. I did sorta think Reg and RHM going as a gay couple would be cute, but it's much harder for a gay couple to adopt. Aw, well, maybe later someone could ask them about it. This entire fic is primarily in Henry's POV, but since AO3 doesn't like prologues, consider Chapter One a happy exception.
> 
> Also, this is set 13 years in the past; May of 2000. So there will be throw-away characters (Like Mr. Rich, who adopted Howie into the clan) and then characters-to-be who aren't Toppats _yet_ (Like Joan, who owns the loans). Also, say hello to Chief Terrence Suave!
> 
> Fun facts: Howie Howitzer was adopted and helped give me this idea.  
>  **Completing the Mission** Howie Howitzer: "He was an orphan taken in by the toppat clan. They gave him a name in hopes he'd live up to it. He hasn't."  
> I love meaningful names. [Hoyt](https://www.behindthename.com/name/hoyt) and [Bloodworth](https://surnames.behindthename.com/name/bloodworth) are so far my favorites in this story.  
> When I was a little kid flying from my dad to my mom, I sat next to this lady who _insisted_ that the plane landing in the strip next to us was going to crash into us. Like, there wasn't room on the tarmac for both of us? I believed her completely. Who does that to a kid???
> 
> Since this story isn't _technically_ finished (by this point, I am beginning Chapter 11), there are tags I may or may not use. For example, I am debating on using the "M/M" tag as said ship might not sail in this fic. Tags will solidify near when I finish the story.


	2. Unexpected

Henry had never been on an–what did they call it?–airship before. Though he held onto the sleeve of Dad Reginald’s thin jacket, he had a feeling this wasn’t something that the man liked. But, if he held onto the hem of his jacket, he might think Henry would steal something. He didn’t mean to steal from Uncle Right, but it was really tempting, and he’d never seen anything like it before so he couldn’t help himself. But he knew stealing from _them_ was wrong, now. People didn’t like believing him, so he’d have to do more than just apologize.

Henry looked around the ship as they moved. First, they were in the bay, where the half dozen others wearing all types of top hats and fancy looking clothes milled. Boxes and objects, most tied down or wrapped up to ship, filled quite a bit of the space. He ducked his head, trying not to look at anyone despite most people looking at him. Mrs. Sm–Carol talked with a cluster of two others, who now paid no heed to Henry. Carol was too much like the Headmistress. She was sweet and kind on the outside, but he knew–he just _knew_ –that she was really just mean. All women who acted nice when there were people around would be mean to him when he was alone or with the other kids. That was a fact.

But now there were no other kids.

But Dad Reginald didn’t act very much differently than he had when around the Headmistress. Well, aside from spilling the beans about being an _awesome outlaw!_ So, Henry should like him, right? Uncle Right probably didn’t like him, for good reason. But friends agreed with each other. What if Dad Reginald didn’t like him because Uncle Right didn’t?

They walked up the sideways facing steps to a balcony holding a door that required a key card to be swiped. Dad Reginald growled in frustration as the first two times he swiped the card, he received an angry buzz in response. But the third swipe yielded a proper response as the door opened. They made their way over a catwalk which Henry refused to look down on. Soon enough, they were in a long hallway full of rooms and what looked like doorways standing at specific points equally as far apart down the hall.

Dad Reginald hardly had to glance at the doors before opening an empty one. Not only was it larger than Henry’s little square of space, being the appropriate size of a bedroom, but there were two real sized beds on either side of the room. Some decorations like pretty toys and a chest at the foot of the left bed partially open with a stick sticking out of it were the first things he saw.

Dad Reginald said, “Here is where you’ll sleep. Howie lives here, too; he was adopted, eh, two years ago. Come on, now. Make yourself at home. Get washed up. Your clothes might not fit but wear the best you can find.” He turned to his friend. “Right Hand Man, there should still be some food at the cafeteria.” Though he started to leave, he hesitated. “You already ate, didn’t you?”

Henry shook his head. “Headmistress said thieves don’t get to eat.”

Dad Reginald scoffed. “We eat better than she ever will. Come along, now. You can take a shower after you’ve eaten.”

Henry couldn’t help a smile as he followed the two further down the hall. Near the end of the hall, Dad Reginald gestured to one of the doors. “This room is mine. That is Right Hand Man’s.” Uncle Right’s door was next to Dad Reginald’s. They doubled back and then continued. A few turns and doors later, the hallway turned into a _massive_ room. The place was larger than the entire orphanage! Long tables bedecked with chairs crossed the cafeteria. Doors, some mechanical like the ones they went through and some without technology stamped into them littered the walls. A wide window sent auburn light into the already well-lit room. Henry could see _forever_ out into the clouds and the desert and the mountains that loomed far away.

He stopped gawking long enough to accept Dad Reginald’s offer of an open door.

“Eh?” A man in a stained apron with a black top hat looked up from the countertop he stood before. “Reginald? Right Hand Man? Eh, you weren’t here for dinner. Who’s this?”

“This is Henry,” Reginald said. “He is our newest recruit. We were stuck at that orphanage in Red Mesa.”

The chef made a noise of acknowledgement and understanding and gestured to one of the massive refrigerators at the end of the room. “Just take the extra in there.” With that, the black-hat-one walked further into the kitchen that was straight out of a movie.

Henry hadn’t seen so much food in his _life_ as they opened the door to the fridge and found at least a half dozen meals packed in translucent containers, and then more ingredients further in. They were mostly vegetables; carrots, lettuce, beans, broccoli, and a whole host of others he couldn’t even name all packaged and preserved and ready to be prepared.

Henry snapped out of his thoughts as they began to move again. A few microwaves were open. Although Dad Reginald wrinkled his nose as he popped the containers into the microwaves, Henry couldn’t understand why. Microwaves were great! They made cold food warm. Warm food smelled nice and tasted nicer. Unless it was vegetables. Then they were still bad, maybe worse. As Dad Reginald messed with the microwaves and checked on the food within, Uncle Right found himself in another refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water. A wine rack stood nearby. Henry knew what this was as the Headmistress and the other women would empty a couple of them on the holidays or sift through one every weekend. Some of the boys tried sneaking some, but always got caught and very severely punished for it.

Henry didn’t hesitate to heartily thank them and hold his own food and the glass of apple juice Uncle Right gave him. They sat close to one of the windows. Henry watched as the two talked about something Henry didn’t understand. Something about… plans? Jewels? Were they going on a mission? A heist? Like in the movies?

Henry stayed obediently quiet, took off his backpack, and turned to his food. _Whoa._ Although he minded the broccoli that stayed to one side, corn topping mashed potatoes flanking a juicy slab of steak took up most of the plate. Not even school food looked as good as this. He scarfed down his meal, hardly pausing long enough to use a utensil.

He froze upon hearing Dad Reginald clear his throat.

Henry looked up at him and sat up straight, quite aware some sauce now smeared across his cheek.

“Where did you learn to eat?” Dad Reginald huffed, a look of disgust marring his features.

“Sorry,” Henry mumbled, shrinking into himself. _Stupid, stupid Henry. He was being nice to you and then you were so stupid! Stupid, stupid. Learn to eat proper._

Dad Reginald repeated his question, albeit a little more forcefully. “Who taught you manners? Donkeys?”

Henry shook his head. “N-no. Sorry.” He inwardly smacked himself and went on, “Um, kids.” _The headmistress would be more than pissed. Henry was due for another beating, wasn’t he? Oh, he hated those._

Dad Reginald puffed, “Carol will never let us live this down. Henry, you must consider our image and yours. If you eat and act like a homeless child, no one will treat you with respect. Toppats _command_ respect. You will need to look and eat and talk properly.”

“Okay.”

Dad Reginald let out a small sigh. Oh no. What had Henry did wrong? Was ‘okay’ not a proper word? Maybe it wasn’t. Henry didn’t know “proper.” But he should! Teachers liked to act proper! He should have paid attention to how his teachers acted. Eyes up, Henry! Pay attention!

Dad Reginald went on, his voice way gentler than Henry expected, “You have a lot to learn. Straighten your back; don’t hunch over like that. Don’t put your elbows on the table.”

Henry obeyed. Dad Reginald explained what he was actually supposed to use a fork for but called it a weird name. British people were weird. But he had to learn what they were talking about.

Then, Dad Reginald stopped talking and indicated Henry’s half-eaten plate. Henry, his back straight and his elbows hanging off the table by a few inches and one hand grasping his fork, stabbed a piece of steak that had been peeled off the main piece and, with a glance up at Dad Reginald to make sure he was not screwing up again, ate it.

“That’s better,” Dad Reginald stated.

Then, the two men were no longer paying attention to him.

Henry, a little frustrated at how much more slowly this style of eating was compared to his improper way of eating, cut the steak apart with a knife rather than tear it with his fork. He wasn’t allowed a knife at the orphanage, but he had seen it being used by older kids and adults. Though, as he got to the broccoli, he hesitated. Ugh, broccoli. None of the other kids like broccoli, and Henry was no different.

 _“Henry, you will sit here until you eat your vegetables. I don’t care if you get tired or it molds, you_ will _eat it. Understand?”_

Some of the older boys were successful in hiding the disgusting vegetables, but Henry was rarely as good. He was good at taking and hiding said taken things, but for some reason the Headmistress and the other ladies were able to find vegetables on him like dogs on treats. What would Dad Reginald say if he did that? Uncle Right was able to see Henry steal from him, so he might find out, too.

Henry choked down the rest of his dinner. Only after the fact did he realize he hadn’t taken a single sip of his apple juice. So, that was next on his agenda. The pungent taste washed away the warm, thick greens that for some reason took longer to eat than the chewier steak. He wiped off his face, realizing a little too late he could have just hidden the broccoli in his napkin.

…nah, that was stupid. That was always the first place the ladies searched.

Soon enough, the adults were done eating and Henry followed them to where they dropped off the dishes as well as the garbage. Well, now he got to go to his room and really look around the place. “Good night, Dad Reginald, Uncle Right!” Henry said as he tromped to his room.

“Good night, Henry,” Dad Reginald wished and Uncle Right gave him a small nod and a grunt. “ _Right Hand Man,_ ” Henry heard Dad Reginald say before the door shut.

Either way, the door closed behind him and he set his backpack on his bed. He looked through it and brought out his school supplies to set within the chest at the foot of his bed. Once those were out of the way, he pulled out a few trinkets that definitely belonged to him and not the lost and found, the other kids at school or the orphanage, or the street. He sat on his bed and played with one of his favorite toys: a blue rectangular box with a screen and multiple buttons on its face. _Gameboy_ proudly proclaimed itself on the bottom rim around the screen. He looked around the room and, as he heard footsteps, quickly stuffed the Gameboy back into his backpack and stuffed it under his bed, hidden beneath the hem of his blanket.

Henry took a deep breath and opened the door to what he believed was his closet on the wall just past the chest at the foot of his bed. Yes, it was his closet. Clothes too big for him–surprisingly, just big enough for the young teen boys with a little room to grow–hung on the clothes rack. Translucent drawers held underclothes and a pair of shoes. He didn’t need shoes, though. Not right now. Right now, it was time for bed. Well, after his shower. None of them liked how dirty his hair was, not the Headmistress, not his new dad nor his uncle or their coworker. He assumed–hoped–she was just a coworker. The less he saw of her, the better. Though, the Toppat Clan was a big family, so he’d still see her around.

He sifted through the hanged clothes, eyes wide in wonder. Even the plainest shirt–a short sleeved black shirt with white sleeves–was so much more… _new_ than his or the other boys’. He remembered seeing some of the older kids from school with shirts similar to these, but the sleeves were all but gone and that was great for the athletic types who loved showing off their muscles. Theirs still had the folded collars, though many of them wore the collars popped up. It was fairly dumb, but he never questioned them. Especially since he stole the lead jock’s girlfriend’s hairbrush. It’s not like he was ever that good at using a brush–in fact, it was quite painful most of the time–but the mirror set in the faux gold bedazzled face of the brush was just so… pretty? Tempting was a good word for it, too. Irresistible. He had seen it and there was nothing he wanted more than that brush.

Henry plucked a soft set of light blue pajamas speckled white and strode into the bathroom. It wasn’t very large, but it was still big enough for a toilet, sink, and shower–something that could not be said for the other personal bathrooms in the orphanage.

Henry still had trouble with his stupid hair, but he managed to get the dirt and sand out of it. But now it stuck up like a bristling sheep. Eh, he was going to sleep, anyway. He could worry about it, later.

He left the bathroom, only to come face-to-face with a new boy, most of his strawberry blonde hair hidden beneath a brown top hat. This one was only about six years older than Henry, but already rather tall. The new boy blinked and cocked his head. “Who’re you?”

“Henry,” Henry mumbled.

“Uh… oh! Ah heard of you!” The boy held out his hand. “Howie! Howie Howitzer. You’re Henry…?”

Henry took Howie’s hand. “Stickmin.”

“Well, howdy, Henry Stickmin! Ah guess we’re bunking together. Blue, huh? Nice choice. Funny hair ya have there. Ah knew a kid with curly hair, but not like that! Are ya goin’ to bed soon? Ah wonder when you’ll get yer own hat. Will it be blue? Oh, sorry! Ah’m talkin’ too much! An’ Ah haven’t let go. Sorry! Here.” He let go of Henry’s hand and stepped aside.

Henry quickly stepped out of the bathroom. _What in the heck?_ “Thanks.”

Howie grinned. “We’re going to be friends in no time! Ah was told we were gonna have a boy my age. Ahh, well, Ah’m not complaining about an unexpected face ’round here! Ah got extra pilla’s so help yerself!” With that, Howie walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind himself.

Henry stared at the door for a moment before setting his dirty clothes in the basket in his closet and laying down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I miss writing Fiddleford McGucket. That's literally the only reason I gave Howie a Southern accent. Since we never actually hear him say anything in the games, it's technically plausible. Also, curly hair. Because I don't usually write that. Does anyone say "Howdy" anymore or is it just me? I love that word, and it's severely underused, even in Texas, which is stereotyped to use it.
> 
> Oh, and Reginald and Right Hand aren't roomies. Hey, it's a big ship. ~~lol~~
> 
> Also, these names are just plain ridiculous, so I'm warning you: you will read an incredibly serious scene and get smacked in the face with names like "Mr. Cool." But hey, [it just works](https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=IT%20JUST%20WORKS).


	3. First Day

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bz–_ click

Henry jolted awake and sat up. He looked around, but no alarm sat beside him. Instead, Howie pulled his arm back after patting the box-shaped alarm on his bedside table. He sat up and, stifling a yawn, looked at Henry. “Hhhh…. Oh! Mornin’,” Howie pushed himself out of bed and made his way to his closet.

Henry slipped out of bed and approached his closet. He pouted upon seeing that not one pair of clothes were his size. Even his pajamas needed to be pulled up on occasion to keep from falling down or the hem of the pants leg being stepped on. He brought down the black and white shirt and… jeans? They weren’t as long as jeans, but not as short as shorts. Capris? Well, on him they were plenty long.

Henry picked up his plain black and white tennis shoes and waited, watching the door to the bathroom. Howie’s dark brown top hat hung on one of two hooks attached to the door.

Henry let out a little hum and pulled his backpack out from under his bed. He shuffled through it and brought out the bedazzled mirror-brush. None of the previous owner’s long black hair was trapped within the bristles, and the surface was still very clean and shiny. He slowly turned it over, looking at himself and his surroundings in the mirror. He got a sense of… satisfaction looking into one of his most prized possessions. Right next to his Gameboy, the mirror had been his hardest catch. In fact, he’d nearly gotten seen and then he would’ve had the stuffing beaten out of him. But man was it _worth it!_

He heard the bathroom door click. A bolt of nervousness shot through Henry and he put the mirror back in his backpack and stuffed it under the bed. Howie didn’t pay Henry much heed as he traveled back to his closet. Henry took his place in the bathroom.

“Hey, Henry?” Howie asked as Henry stepped back into the bedroom.

“Huh?”

“So, breakfast is in a few minutes,” Howie explained. “Ah usually go by maself, now, but if ya wanna come with that’s cool! But, uh, Ah think whoever adopted ya will pick ya up? Was that Reginald?”

“Dad Reginald!” Henry agreed cheerily.

Howie chuckled. “Ah like the way ya think, little Henry. Alright, Ah’ll wait here ’til we gotta leave. Hey, you didn’t bring much back with ya, huh?”

Henry shook his head.

“Ah, gotcha. Well, Ah earned maself a few trinkets. Ah can teach ya how, too.”

Henry perked up.

“Oh, yeah. It’ll be a piece a’ cake. The adults ’round here can be a little, uh, stern if ya start beggin’. But talk ta the right ones the right way and you’ll weasel anything out of ’em. But mostly, ya should earn yer keep. That’s not ta mention the adults on the ground who’ll just trip over themselves gettin’ ya anythin’ ya want if ya ask the right way.” Howie put on his top hat and stood at the door, grinning. “What’d’ya say? Next time we go out, Ah’ll teach ya how to charm or weasel the wallet outta anyone. In return, we share some a’ the profit.”

Henry grinned and gave him a firm nod and thumbs up.

_Knock-knock-knock!_

Howie pressed a button. The doors hissed as they opened, revealing Dad Reginald and Uncle Right. Dad Reginald acknowledged Howie’s existence. “Good morning, you two! Come along, now, breakfast starts at eight.”

Henry marched after them, shoulders squared and head up. He tripped over himself a few times and he occasionally had to readjust his clothes. It wasn’t _too_ bad, but the pants didn’t fit him well and the sleeves of his shirt had to be rolled up at the cuffs.

“We will need to get you some new clothes,” Dad Reginald decided. “How do those shoes fit?”

“Good!” Henry hopped on both feet a few times as they walked, snapping his ankles up to show off the shoes beneath the pants.

“Well that’s good!” Dad Reginald announced. “Now, Henry, our meals are called by table. When you go up to get food, only take what you can eat, and be respectful of when you take your food.”

Henry listen with rapt attention as Dad Reginald spoke, teaching him about the cafeteria system in the airship and the manners associated with it, none of which he’d ever heard. Well, he _had_ heard that you weren’t supposed to eat with your hands, you were supposed to use forks and spoons and stuff. But there were some foods that you didn’t need utensils for. They were going to go out and later Howie would teach him some cool tricks! Maybe Dad Reginald and Uncle Right would as well.

Howie left to find someone else when they got to the cafeteria, but that didn’t mean Henry was low on attention. As soon they arrived at their table, Henry felt so many eyes on him.

“Aw,” a woman with florescent violet hair cooed. “You must be our newest recruit, Henry!”

Henry quietly nodded and looked at her.

“I’m Matilda.” She brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear, tucking it beneath her purple top hat. “You are just the cutest. How much longer until you take this ship, huh?”

A man near her, a dark-haired man with a plain black top hat and a weirdly charismatic smile, chuckled, “Oh I think I might need to wait a little longer to worry about competition. You came in late last night, Henry! Tsh, I hardly even saw _you_ , Reginald! Why didn’t you show me your mission success?”

“Apologies, Chief,” Dad Reginald chuckled. “Henry was pretty tired.”

“Aw, I bet. Are you taking the day to get him settled in? Show him the ropes?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” Reginald answered. “In fact, Henry, I’ve got a guest’s card you can use until we’re able to get your very own.”

“Don’t worry,” said the chief, “–you won’t need to wait for long. We do things quick and easy.”

“Yes,” Reginald agreed. “Quite.”

Henry looked between the two, puzzled. He didn’t have to stay confused for long before another voice caught his attention. “Eleven, right? Where are you starting? Begging?”

Dad Reginald clicked his tongue, “Wallace, we don’t _beg_. Henry is a sophisticated young boy. He’s got some potential in pickpocketing already. As well as lockpicking. If his story about booting his scooter was true.”

Henry nodded in confirmation.

“Table Three!” a voice called loud and clear. The third table in, two away from the one in which they sat, emptied as people got up and made their way toward an open wall, where a buffet was set out not too unlike the one at school.

Henry looked up at Dad Reginald, eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s random,” Dad Reginald explained. “Every day a different table goes first. But we all have time to eat.”

Henry nodded and watched as the people slowly filtered back, plates laden with food. He could smell eggs and bacon and potatoes.

Matilda said, “You have such cute hair. I’d bet with a good brushing you’d look like the perfect little gentleman!”

 _This_ caught Henry’s attention. He looked back at her and then away and mumbled, “Okay.”

There wasn’t much time for questions before the voice announced, “Table One!”

Henry looked around as people down the table got to their feet. He stuck close to Dad Reginald’s side as they approached the bar.

Okay, _now_ he hadn’t seen so much food in his life. Whatever was in that refrigerator was dwarfed by the spread laid out before them. Henry gave himself a generous portion of scrambled eggs but stopped upon seeing the pancakes. _Pancakes._ There were so many of them! And they were fluffy and golden brown and looked _so good!_

Henry only stopped when Dad Reginald said, “Only take as much as you need, Henry. Too much food isn’t good.”

“Okay.” Instead of grabbing more food, Henry drowned his pancakes and some of his eggs in syrup, took a glass of orange juice, and followed Dad Reginald with a skip in his step.

Henry got a lanyard after breakfast with a keycard clipped to it. Although he wasn’t supposed to wear it outside of the ship, instead keeping it in his pocket, when something was wrapped around one’s neck it was harder to lose. Though, in Henry’s humble opinion, necklaces weren’t good. Someone could grab him by the necklace and choke him out! What would happen then? Well, Dad Reginald wore that really shiny bedazzled bling, so he probably wasn’t scared of it. So maybe Henry shouldn’t be, either.

Their first stop, Dad Reginald claimed, was going to be a clothing store. Howie didn’t come with them. Maybe next time? Well, whatever. It was just him, Dad Reginald, and Uncle Right. That was okay with him.

Their pod landed in the scrubby wilderness, close to a shiny red car like the one they had taken yesterday.

This new city in the desert, the big city and not the outskirts like where the orphanage was, was busy and hot. Henry very quickly got bored searching for clothes and trying them on. But, when he admitted this to Dad Reginald, he got a “This is important, Henry! We can’t have you walking in clothes too big for yourself.” That still didn’t make Henry any less bored.

As they stood in line to _finally_ purchase the clothes they needed and finish this part of their trip, Henry’s eyes fell on the lady behind him. Rather, her hand. She held onto a basket with one hand, and a sparkly purse with another. His eyes went round. Whoa… sequins were pretty cheap, but they were so shiny. They glimmered like gemstones when the light hit them just right, and they were arranged in an overly fanciful design. He’d never been so bold as to take something so _big._ After all, Henry could fit his pretty mirror, Gameboy, and then a few more things in it. But look at that!

He glanced up at Dad Reginald as they started swiping items across the scanner. Uncle Right, however, was not as much paying attention to the _clothes_ as he was _Henry._ Henry looked back at the clothes, nonchalantly throwing another glance beside himself at Uncle Right. He knew he’d get in trouble if he made a scene. Ooooh but that bag… he needed it. That was that, he’d never had something so pretty and shiny with him. Even when he looked away, it nagged at the back of his mind. He could do it, he could. Even with Uncle Right watching him, he could do it.

But just as they were leaving and Henry started to pass the woman, he heard, “Oi, kid.” Henry stopped and looked up at Uncle Right. “Time and place.”

Henry frowned at him. Of course this was the time _and_ the place! The lady was distracted! She’d never even notice it was gone until it was too late. He looked back at the lady, but she had her attention on Henry, now. She made a soft cooing noise at him and then turned to the cashier, hoisting her purse up and setting it on the counter, out of reach forever. He shot a dark look at Uncle Right, but then turned ahead. _He could’ve gotten it._

Before they left, Henry was encouraged to change into one of the new outfits–similar to one he wore before being black with white sleeves and fitted jeans.

Dad Reginald said, “Now, Henry. There is a time and place for everything. Remember the repercussions of your actions. That woman was going to be _using_ that purse before we left. No matter how sly you were, she would have caught onto you.”

“I could’ve!” Henry burst out. _If Uncle Right hadn’t given him away._

“Right Hand Man was doing you a favor,” Dad Reginald chided. “Now, we will see about those skills of yours. Henry, you have a good base, but your technique could use some work.”

 _Finally!_ Henry listened to every word Dad Reginald told him. Throughout the day as they walked, Dad Reginald would pick out targets. When Henry completed his mission, Dad Reginald would critique him, telling him what he did right and what he did wrong. Eventually, Henry picked out a few targets of his own. Henry very quickly learned he had to be particularly good at _improvisation_ , as Dad Reginald called it. After all, people didn’t like discovering someone was trying to steal from them. So being able to make up a story on the spot was almost as valuable as being able to run. But not _every_ plan went off smoothly.

Henry screamed as the man whom he’d snuck up on spun around and grabbed him by the wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?” the man roared.

Henry struggled in the man’s grasp, but that only made the man’s fingers tighten. Henry looked around, but no one approached. There were plenty of people, and all eyes were on them. But just like any like-minded crowd behaved, no one moved to help or hinder. The man shook Henry’s arm to grab his attention. “What do you think you’re _doing?_ ”

Henry whimpered and tried vainly to pull back the man’s fingers.

“Oh, no, you little thief,” the man hissed and yanked Henry up so he was standing up straight. “I’m taking you straight to the police!”

 _Think fast, Henry!_ Henry dug his heels into the ground and screamed. _Ehhh, what was the word? What was the word?_ “Kidnap!” That was the word!

Suddenly, the crowd was moving. A young woman took Henry by the arm and smacked the man’s hand away while another man dragged Henry’s would-be victim off. “You let go of this poor boy!”

Henry wailed, summoning big, fresh crocodile tears, and holding onto her skirt for dear life. He whined to the lady, showing off his wrist, which was starting to show signs of bruising.

“What? No!” the man who captured Henry complained. “He was stealing from me! I-I wasn’t kidnapping him!”

“Liar!” “Someone call the police, already!” “Don’t move!”

“Henry, boy!” Dad Reginald called, he and Uncle Right searching the crowd as they speedily approached.

Henry raced away from the woman and tackled Dad Reginald and pointed at the man that nearly caught him.

The man crossed, “Learn to control your child! The little brat tried stealing from me!”

“How _dare_ you!” Dad Reginald gasped. “My boy would never do something so undignified and barbaric as petty theft!”

“Yeah,” the lady who saved Henry said. “He’s just a little kid!”

The lady’s husband agreed, “You’re just a creep trying to kidnap this kid. Don’t let him get away!”

Henry’s would-be victim’s eyes widened, and he tried to flee. He was promptly tackled by two people.

“No, no,” Dad Reginald said. “I think our little boy just needs to sit home for a little while. We aren’t going to stoop to _his_ level. Just keep an eye out for your own children around this man.”

“If you’re sure, sir,” the lady said. “I’m sorry, again. It’s okay, little boy. That man won’t be able to hurt you again.”

Henry gave her a watery smile.

Of course, Henry knew that he had just been taken out of the frying pan and took a swan dive into the fire.

“Henry,” Dad Reginald said, his voice calm as they left.

Henry wiped his eyes and kept his hands to himself. “…yeah?”

“ _Never_ involve the police.” He sent a subtle look back. A few cop cars had arrived, but they had already taken a corner and the sound of the crowd was all but gone. “It is good to work with what you have, but they very well know little boys can be thieves.”

Henry looked up at him, his head tipped.

“You learn,” Dad Reginald answered the unasked question. “You do what you must to survive. There will come a time when even the best of us are defeated. You were able to use your resources effectively. Do you know what you did wrong?”

Henry nodded. “…clumsy.”

“Precisely. Now, don’t be too obvious with your escape. You don’t want people becoming suspicious of you. But it’s better to run when you know you’re outmatched.”

Henry took a deep breath and glanced at Uncle Right, who still hadn’t said anything.

Dad Reginald went on, “But we have been out here for a while! Are you hungry?”

Henry turned his attention on Dad Reginald and nodded enthusiastically.

“Hmm… there is a sandwich shop here. Right Hand Man?”

“Sandwich City?” Uncle Right prompted. “Yes, I’ve ’eard of it. Is it wise to stay ’ere for much longer?”

“I’m sure of it,” Dad Reginald said. “The shop’s fairly busy.”

Henry followed Dad Reginald’s gaze. Indeed, a large shop with a sign proudly proclaiming “Sandwich City” sat on the street corner, buzzing with life in and around it. In his humble opinion, pizza would have been great. There was a pizza joint just down the block! But Henry had screwed up pretty bad, and plus he wasn’t paying for the food.

In line to order inside the airconditioned, fragrant shop, there was another boy of his age and a girl perhaps a little older. The girl whined at her well-dressed father insistently, tipping her head back and shuffling her feet. Her vibrant red hair, cut just past her shoulders, fluttered messily in the air-conditioned breeze. The boy beside her said something, messing with his zipped up green bomber jacket as he did so. The man sighed and waved his hand. The kids bolted, running into the main area, free of their bonds.

Henry watched them go, a hollow feeling stirring in his chest. The boy tripped over his own shoes and was caught by the girl, who pulled him to his feet, shoved him off balance, and then ran again.

Then, the boy in the bomber jacket saw Henry and stopped running. He looked to the girl and said something. Soon, both the children were approaching him.

Henry panicked. He stood stock still, straight as an arrow, by Dad Reginald’s side, half-hoping that if he stood still long enough, they wouldn’t be able to see him, like a T-Rex or something. A thousand thoughts flitted through his mind, each worse than the last. That girl was going to find him and convince Dad Reginald and Uncle Right to let her steal him. And then she would just drag him along and make fun of him with her younger brother or friend or something. O-or she wouldn’t, and Henry would go with her and then do something stupid like trip or run into something or say something dumb. Or–

“Hey, Kid!” the red-head announced. “Who are you?”

“Henry,” he mumbled.

The boy chipped in, “Hello, Henry.”

The girl went on, “We’ve never seen you people around here before. Hi! My name is Ellie. This is my friend, Charles. Can Henry play?”

Dad Reginald looked down at Henry. Henry leaned forward to take a better look at the two. The girl was innocent enough looking, bearing jeans and a pink shirt with a thin white jacket that didn’t button in the front or reach her belly, and pretty red shoes. The boy beside her, Charles, was just a few inches shy of her–Henry’s height, perhaps a little taller. Henry couldn’t see anything past his weirdly heavy looking dark green bomber jacket streaked with dust that reached his palms and hips. Why was he wearing that in the heat?

Dad Reginald asked, “What do you say, Henry?”

Henry hid further behind Dad Reginald.

Dad Reginald said, “Not today, then.”

“Aww,” Ellie complained. “Fine. Come on, Charles! Let’s find a table!”

Henry watched the boy and girl. They quickly found a table and sat down. They hadn’t stopped moving for a second before engaging in “Rock, Paper, Scissors.” Ellie seemed to be fond of scissors, like Charles took to rock. Knowing this themselves, the game quickly went to randomness.

Henry couldn’t understand what they were saying. Dad Reginald and Uncle Right talking next to him as well as the many other people in line helped with that. But whatever they were talking about seemed to be funny as they took quite a bit of enjoyment from it.

Eventually, the man whom Henry assumed was Ellie’s father approached the table, a tray of sandwiches in his arms. The kids calmed down long enough to retrieve their lunches.

As they got further in the line, he craned his neck to look back at Ellie, Charles, and Ellie’s father, who happily ate their sandwiches. Ellie explained something with great exuberance, sometimes holding her hands in front of her and making wild gestures, probably to accent the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since Henry is a kid, Ellie and Charles would be, too, right? I decided since we didn't know their families (or even why Ellie was locked up at the Wall), I'd have a little bit of fun. They aren't siblings, but they're friends! :)
> 
> Oh, right, and refrain from taking a swan dive into the fire. I heard it's not good for you.


	4. Shoot

When they stopped by the pod to go back to the airship, Dad Reginald, Uncle Right, and Henry looked over his haul. Unfortunately, Henry had to give some of it to the vault, but he kept a good amount and some of the pretty baubles he’d prioritized over money. Unfortunately, Dad Reginald and Uncle Right were really busy when they got back. But that did not mean Henry was left alone. Instead, Matilda Ivy swooped in.

“You look dashing in that new outfit!” Matilda exclaimed. “But your hair is just so messy. Come on, let’s put your clothes away and find a nice bathroom. I have _just_ the thing!”

A sinking feeling fell into the pit of Henry’s stomach, but he obediently followed her and did what had to be done. Matilda brought him to one of the unisex bathrooms they had on ship and went to work rinsing out his hair. She somehow summoned a chair into existence and sat him down in front of the sink and mirror. Henry flinched and curled his fingers into his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

“Oh, don’t worry, Henry,” the woman clucked. “I won’t hurt you! I’m the absolute best person when it comes to hair. Curly, straight, wavy, natural, dyed, short, long, greasy, dry, well-groomed, or messy–I’m the expert. Those old hags put in charge of you weren’t. I can tell. Don’t worry, this may hurt a little bit at first, but then you’ll feel better than ever before!”

Henry gulped and hummed in response, but he still couldn’t relax. The other ladies tended to say they were good with hair, too. But Henry’s hair was stupid and curly, and it always hurt to brush or wash through. It took hours to clean and it always left his head pounding and feeling raw.

Yet, Matilda did none of this. She hummed a pleasant tune and gently went to work to tease out debris and knots with her fingers. In fact, as time went on, Henry started to relax a little. After all, if she got impatient, she could end up hurting him again. But she didn’t _become_ impatient. Instead, she gently worked the conditioner into and out of his hair with plenty of water and her fingers, rather than a brush. When she was satisfied with that, she worked some shampoo into her hands and then into Henry’s hair. She avoided the ends of his hair, but he didn’t know why or even how as his hair wasn’t that long to begin with. She switched to cooler water to rinse out the rest of the soap, where the soap had an opportunity to wash over the ends of his hair.

A rather long eventually later, Matilda switched between drying off his hair with a special towel and running her comb through it. “…and there! Look at that!” She urged him to stand up and look into the mirror. “All clean! How do you feel?”

Alright, Henry didn’t know much about hair. He knew even less about his _own_ hair. But what he _did_ know was that he felt much… cleaner. Lighter. Like someone had taken a dirty, haggard cat off his head. “Better!”

He saw Matilda grin behind him in the mirror. “Oh wonderful! Now, what did Reginald and Right Hand Man teach you while you were out? Pick-pocketing?”

Henry turned to her completely and nodded.

Matilda thought for a moment. “That’s a good skill to have. I’ll bet half my hair products Right Hand Man isn’t going to hesitate to teach you marksmanship. But how about a little lesson in disguise?”

“Disguise?” Henry parroted.

Matilda nodded and hummed as she put away her supplies. “You see, Henry, pick-pocketing is a great skill to have in your day-to-day life. It’s the foundation for stealing and slight-of-hand magic tricks, and a good start on your deceit! But the problem with that is that if you get caught, and they get a good look at you, it’s over. Unless… you don’t look like you.”

* * * * *

_Long hallways choked with darkness… voices quiet and masculine tinged with the crack of boyhood… a sharp bark from a lady… loneliness. God, he was alone. He was alone. He’d never see anyone again. He was alone. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. Oh God he couldn’t_

Henry hit the wall with a hard _thunk_. The immediate reaction of a headache and soreness in his shoulder was the first thing to come to his fuzzy mind. He put a hand to his throat and chest, but there was nothing there, not even the leftover ache of something sitting on him. Henry whimpered and curled up into himself. His blanket lay in a heap on the floor, out of his reach. The only light that trickled into the room came from the bathroom, which Howie liked to keep on at night as it made it easier to find the light in the morning.

Henry tried to take deep, calming breaths, but it was not to be. He put a hand over his mouth, smothering himself and his hitched choking. Finally, unable to force himself to sleep, Henry quietly slipped out of bed. He threw his blanket back onto the mattress and turned around. Howie slept soundly. The boy only woke to his alarm, loud and shrill as a siren.

Not wanting to disturb his roommate, Henry opened his door and dragged his feet down the hall. Through his half-senses, it was difficult to distinguish room from room or remember which one belonged to Dad Reginald. But eventually, he was able to find Dad Reginald’s room. Nervous of waking anyone else, he quietly knocked on the door. Surprisingly, the small sound was enough to cause the noise of cloth rubbing over cloth and feet to step through the small room.

The door opened, revealing Dad Reginald, hair messy and dark nightclothes ruffled. Even his white-speckled nightclothes had a collar and buttons in the front. “Henry? What are you doing up so late?”

Henry looked down at his own feet. “Bad dream,” he mumbled.

Dad Reginald let out a short sigh. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. But Dad Reginald stepped back into his room, gesturing for Henry to do the same. When he sat down on his bed, Henry was right beside him, burying his face in the man’s side and trying to control his breathing as his hiccupping came back. “Do you, er, wish to tell me?”

The first thought that came to Henry’s mind was “no.” What if he told Dad Reginald and then he called Henry’s nightmare stupid, like the ladies at the orphanage sometimes liked to do? But Dad Reginald was not like them, Henry knew that. Eventually, Henry relented and repeated his dream, though he stopped in the middle as he started whimpering and hiccupping.

“You’re a Toppat, Henry,” Dad Reginald said, setting his hand awkwardly on Henry’s back. “You won’t see that place again.”

“But what if you don’t like me anymore?” Henry blurted out, and then immediately wished he didn’t. He felt Dad Reginald tense. At first, the man didn’t speak. Did Henry really surprise him that much? Henry wasn’t proper and he was too much of a–what did the ladies call him?–klep-toe-maniac and he didn’t even know how to wash his own hair.

“Believe me, Henry, if we didn’t like you, we wouldn’t have adopted you. You are well loved here. I enjoy teaching you.” Dad Reginald’s tone became a little more confident at the end.

Henry smiled a little at that. He did like learning from them. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Come, now, Henry. It’s time to go to bed.”

Henry looked up at Dad Reginald. “Can I sleep with you?”

“…if it will help you sleep.” With that, Dad Reginald got up, leading Henry to do the same, pulled the blanket back to its proper place on the bed, and peeled it back.

Henry liked sleeping in his own bed. He wasn’t a baby, anymore, he could do that. But he knew the nightmares would get him there. Dad Reginald wouldn’t let him have nightmares. Henry was safe with him. So, he curled up next to Dad Reginald and, with the blanket over them both, fell asleep rather quickly.

* * * * *

The next day, Henry sat on his bed and admired a pearl bracelet he’d liberated the day prior. The little pearls _tinked_ each time they hit each other, and the light shone off them perfectly at any angle. He cooed and messed with them, both admiring them and trying to find an angle that would not fit them. He was happy he failed with that second part. He pulled out his backpack, which was not even at half capacity, and shuffled through it. He pulled out a necklace with a few glimmering gems at the end. Unfortunately, Darius Johnsonite saw Henry holding it and immediately found the gems to be fake. Well, that was okay. They were still pretty. At least Henry didn’t have to give it away.

Henry put both the items away and shuffled through his backpack again.

 _Hisssss._ “’Enry.”

Henry jumped and looked up. Strangely, Uncle Right stood before him, Dad Reginald nowhere to be seen. “Yeah, Uncle Right?”

“Come on. I’m teaching you ’ow to use a gun.”

Henry gasped, “Really, Uncle Right?”

“Yes. Reg and I agreed you’re more than old enough to learn.”

Henry set his backpack under his bed and jumped to his feet.

“’Enry, guns are dangerous.” Uncle Right pulled out a BB gun, holding it so that it pointed toward the ground, but low enough to give Henry a good look at it. “But they’re a tool, and you will be its master. Don’t point your gun at anyone you aren’t willing to shoot, understand?”

“I understand.”

“What do you understand?”

Henry repeated, “I understand.” He tried to say something more, but it was as if something was stopping him. Something choked his words, restricting him, stopping him from saying what he needed to say. “Never…” He looked up at Uncle Right helplessly.

“Go on,” Uncle Right said, his tone never faltering.

Henry thought for a moment. Uncle Right… wasn’t mad at Henry? Even though Henry was taking a long time to answer his question, he wasn’t mad or trying to rush him. “Never… point at someone… you won’t shoot.”

“You know _why_ they’re dangerous?”

“…they can hurt people,” Henry answered.

“Yes. You can kill someone with a gun.”

Henry’s eyes went round.

“It’s necessary, at times,” Uncle Right explained, his tone never wavering from its cool neutrality. “You must do whatever is necessary to keep the Clan and its members safe. To keep yourself alive, you may need to shoot someone else. Remember: you will rarely be the only one with a gun in a fight.”

Henry frowned. “I… but you can’t.”

“Mercy will get you, or someone you are supposed to be protecting, killed. ’Enry, if someone was going to shoot Reg, would you stop them?”

“Of course!” The answer was instantaneous; it didn’t last long enough as a thought to be registered.

“If that person ’ad friends and family?” Uncle Right went on.

“Y-yeah,” Henry admitted, a little slower this time.

“Never ’esitate, kid,” Uncle Right stated. “But don’t shoot blindly. We’re not brutes, ’Enry. Now, look at this.” Uncle Right knelt so that he and Henry were on the same level. He pointed to a little contraption near the trigger that looked a little like a black button poking out from behind it. “This is the safety. Its job is to prevent the gun from firing. When you’re not shooting, keep this in place. When you want to use the gun, undo the safety. ’Ere, you just press down on this button until it clicks.” When Uncle Right pushed down on the safety, it clicked and the little button, black but ringed red, popped out of the other side. “This shows that the gun is ready to fire. ’Owever, you will still need to cock it. Cocking the gun will put the bullet in place in the chamber and the ’ammer ready. Got it?”

Henry nodded. “Yes, Uncle Right. Safety… to not shoot. Cocking to shoot.”

“Correct. Now, this is the muzzle. Put your ’and ’ere when you’re ’olding it.” Uncle Right went through and described all the pieces of the gun and what they did or what he should do with them. Henry would have gotten bored, if he wasn’t constantly quizzed on what he had just been told. Most of the quizzing was over something they just went through, but occasionally Uncle Right would pull forth a question from earlier about anything from safety to parts to the use of a gun.

Uncle Right stood up. “Now, keep the gun pointed down; never point a weapon at someone you are not willing to shoot, even if you think the gun is empty or the safety is on. Understand?”

“Yes, Uncle Right.”

“What did I say?”

“Never point a gun… at someone you… you don’t wanna shoot,” Henry explained.

“Correct. Now, take out a few pairs of glasses.” Henry picked up both sets of safety glasses from the previously locked box that had been holding the BB gun. Uncle Right put on a pair, as did Henry.

“Now, ’old this.” He held out the BB gun for Henry, its muzzle still pointed down.

Henry gently took it and swallowed. Suddenly, the gun was huge and it was heavy. It was ready to go off at any minute, ready to hurt himself or Uncle Right or–

“Calm down. You are in control of that weapon. Not the other way around.”

“Okay.” Henry took a few deep breaths and readjusted his grip on the weapon, mimicking the grip he saw Uncle Right use.

“Take your finger off the trigger,” Uncle Right ordered. Henry complied, pulled his index finger from the trigger to the trigger guard. “Your finger should only be on the trigger when you’re willing to shoot. Right now, you’re just ’olding the gun.”

“Yes, Uncle Right.”

“Now, look down the range. See that target?”

Henry saw many targets, some human shapes, others circles. The one Uncle Right indicated looked like a giant dart board. He nodded.

“Now, I need you to ’it the center of that board.”

Henry glanced up at Uncle Right and then the board and back.

“You’ll learn,” Uncle Right said. “That’s why we practice.”

Henry quietly offered the gun back.

“Alright. An example. Watch closely.” Uncle Right took the gun when presented and stood up straight, both hands on the gun and pointed to the target. He looked down the sights on the top of the gun and shot. _Pop!_ A hole popped through the center of the target. He flipped the weapon over, pulled the trigger guard out toward the muzzle and then snapped it back into place. He pulled it back up to aim again without once looking away. “The sights are to help you with aiming.” _Pop!_ “And never let your grip go lax.” _Pop!_

Uncle Right lowered the BB gun. Henry looked at the slightly wider hole in the target. “Wow.”

“Yes. Now ’ere.” Uncle Right presented the gun again. Henry took it and held on tight. “Keep your ’ands up, kid.” Uncle Right prodded Henry’s arms, encouraging him to raise his hands and shift his grip to keep a good hold on the weapon. Henry looked down the sights of the gun at the target. He took a few deep breaths to relax himself, though not too much as to loosen his grip on the weapon. Eventually, he gently moved his index finger onto the trigger.

_Pop!_

There was hardly any recoil from the beginner’s weapon. Henry lowered it a little to see his work. A hole broke through the target near the top. Henry pouted, cocked his gun, and raised it again.

_Pop!_

Another hole appeared, this one slightly closer to the center, but also a few inches to the left. The third and fourth holes were closer still, but off kilter. Wow, cocking the gun wasn’t that easy, was it? Or, simple, probably, but it still took effort and energy to do it.

Uncle Right commanded, “Stop.”

Henry paused and looked up.

“Take your index finger off the trigger. Activate the safety. Now, why do you think you’re missing?”

“I don’t know,” Henry responded, albeit a little sharply.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” Uncle Right warned. Henry pouted but said nothing. “Now, a good, steady aim takes practice. You will not master this today. Keep the muzzle pointed down, ’Enry. It takes years to completely master a weapon. What you ’ave is a BB gun; it’s for beginners and it can ’urt, but it doesn’t ’ave the power of a ’andgun or rifle. It uses air and rubber pellets instead of gunpowder, so it doesn’t ’ave the recoil. Now, what are you going to do if I ask you to continue?”

“Take off the safety… cock it… and-and shoot,” Henry explained.

Uncle Right nodded. “Continue.”

Henry looked to the target again. He pressed down on the button holding the safety, cocked the gun, and pointed it toward the target. _Pop!_ The hole was closer to the center of the target. Henry grinned and looked up at Uncle Right, who hadn’t changed his expression. Still, he gave him a little nod. Henry lost his smile and concentrated on the target again. _Click._

“Stop,” Uncle Right commanded.

Henry, biting back a retort, moved his finger to the trigger guard and lowered the gun.

“’Enry.”

“What?”

“Don’t take that tone with me. What are you supposed to do when I tell you to stop?”

“Stop.”

Uncle Right frowned at him. “Tell me the steps.”

Henry stated, “Stop and lower the gun. I take my finger off the trigger. I activate the safety. …oh! Sorry.” He looked down and clicked the safety back into place. A sudden bashfulness took the place of his irritation. “Sorry, Uncle Right.”

Uncle Right stated, “Now, you know what you did wrong.”

Henry nodded. “I forgot to cock the gun again.”

“Correct. Now, why did I stop you?”

“I tried to shoot it?” Henry responded.

“And why is that important?”

Henry wrinkled his nose. “It won’t fire. A-and something… bad happens.”

“Correct. ’Enry, weapons can be unpredictable, but you don’t need to ’elp them along. Always keep track of your weapon. Know if it is loaded or not, whether the safety is on or not, or where your ’and is and the trigger. If you don’t know what is ’appening with your weapon, it can misfire and ’urt you or an ally, or it can not fire at all and give your opponent a chance to kill you. I’ve seen great Toppats and enemies alike die because they forgot to check their clip and when they went to fire, their weapons didn’t go off.”

“That’s horrible!”

“Guns can save your life or end it, ’Enry, remember that. Now, continue.”

Henry turned off the safety, cocked the gun, and went back to shooting. He went through two whole clips. The target was peppered with holes, though most of them were concentrated near the middle-left. Finally, as Henry felt his arms were going to fall off from handling the gun so much, he fired and hit the target in the center ring. It didn’t hit the exact center, where Uncle Right hit, but it was within the circle ring. Henry grinned and turned to Uncle Right.

Uncle Right gave Henry a nod and a smile so small he might have imagined it.

Excitement bubbled up inside of him, but Henry turned back to the target, took a deep breath to calm himself at least a little bit, and cocked the gun.

Finally, when Henry emptied the weapon a second time, Uncle Right stated, “Stop.”

Henry set his finger on the trigger guard, activated the gun’s safety, and pointed it down. Back to Uncle Right he concentrated.

“You’ve improved. You learn quickly, ’Enry. I’ll give you a book to read about safety. Day after tomorrow we can come back ’ere and we’ll continue our lesson. Understand?”

“Yes, Uncle Right!”

“Good. Now, when you’re done using a gun, make sure that it’s empty and its safety is on. Then, load it into a lockbox. For now, I’ll be keeping it with me. Understand?”

“Yes, Uncle Right.”

They both took off their safety glasses and loaded them in with the gun. Once the BB gun was safely loaded into its box and shut tight, Uncle Right approached the target with Henry. Henry let out a quiet breath as he examined the paper riddled with holes. Although he knew it was just paper, those bullets went clean through! Some dented the wood that was holding it. If a BB gun could do this to paper just being rubber pellets launched with compact air, what about metal bullets?

Uncle Right took down and rolled up the target paper until it was as tightly coiled as he could make it, bound it with a few rubber bands, and then picked up their gear. “Now, it’s about time for lunch.” He looked out to where their borrowed car sat waiting to be occupied. “What kind of ice cream do you like, kid?”

The Toppat Clan had to be a dream, there was no other way to describe it. Dad Reginald and Uncle Right were pretty busy, being higher ups and very good at their jobs. But Dad Reginald still had time to teach him the proper way of acting and living–everything from manners to speech to how to tell when someone was lying and how to lie. He put a lot of emphasis on respect, dignity, and image. True to his word, Uncle Right took him out for shooting lessons. Each lesson began with a quiz over safety, and gently evolved into one over the different parts of a gun and specifics about the weapon they used–the BB gun. Uncle Right sometimes took him out for ice cream after, but only on the condition he didn’t tell anyone else as he told Dad Reginald he’d quit with the frozen treats and only if Henry did exceptionally well.

When Matilda wasn’t on a mission or helping someone else, she was teaching Henry how to hide in plain sight, to change his appearance with hardly any effort or supplies. Also, to make sure he was washing his hair once a week. Howie met up with him back at their room and sometimes outside, where he’d teach Henry why and how different people acted, and how to get around their defenses and find their insecurities. This was good for finding a way to pull at heartstrings, but also good in a way to manipulate a person into thinking whatever Henry wanted them to think. Howie’s lessons were difficult, and Henry wasn’t great at it. But he did learn how to use his cute looks to his advantage when trying to weasel a favor out of someone. He never tried it on other Clan members because he knew it would fail and he’d look stupid. Again, image was everything, as Dad Reginald taught him.

How did Henry go from being a scrappy, troublesome orphan with no chance at a free future to being a Toppat recruit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matilda Ivy has probably the coolest hair of any Toppat member, and she knows it. _I love the background characters, can you tell?_
> 
> Also, I legitimately couldn't think of anyone else to teach Henry marksmanship. I mean, my immediate thought is "RHM teaching Henry to shoot would be kind of cute." And then nothing could sway me. Also, guns are scary. I don't like holding them. I held and shot a pistol once with my dad literally holding my hand. I thought that a full-blown pistol would probably be a little too advanced for a kid who's never even seen a gun before, so a BB might do as a start.
> 
>  _Oh!_ I researched selective mutism for an abnormal psych class because it's absolutely fascinating to me. A case study they conducted on a girl showed her transitioning from being completely mute to talking very quietly with few words. Then, through time and therapy, evolving from short, quiet sentences to slightly longer, slightly louder tangents. Selective mutism is also most prevalent in younger kids (Henry's age range, in fact), and is found hand-in-hand with anxiety. The funny thing about selective mutism is that it isn't actually _selective._ The kid isn't just _choosing_ not to talk, but rather they can't. Also, they're sometimes shown to talk around their parents, but not strangers. Also, I first heard about SM whilst in the Undertale fandom in relation to Frisk and Chara. Fun!


	5. Fear

Henry said, “Я буду стрелять.”

Howie stared at him. “What?”

“It means ‘I’ll shoot.’ ‘Я прикончу тебя’ means ‘I’ll shoot you,’” Henry explained. “So, if you hear that, you should probably be careful.”

Howie blinked and then held up a finger. “Okay, one: Where did ya learn that?” He held up a second finger. “Two: Do ya actually expect me ta remember that gibb’rish?”

“It’s _Russian_ , not gibberish!” Henry chuckled. “I mean, it’ll take a while, but I’m sure you’ll learn! Also, I’m taking that Russian class in school. But I looked up some important stuff myself. ‘Я прикончу тебя’ is just an important one I thought I’d need to understand. For the future.”

Howie raised an eyebrow. “How many Russians are we goin’ ta encounter at yer school? Outside of yer teacher. Ah don’t think she has a gun, though.”

The younger one grinned. “I’ll know it if she does!”

Whatever Howie was about to say was drowned out by a hard wail over the speakers. Henry squealed and clapped his hands over his ears. He heard _something_ over the speakers, but with his hands over his ears he couldn’t understand. Howie grabbed Henry’s forearm, tearing his hand away from his ear. “Henry!”

Henry let go of himself and looked up at Howie. Howie expression was hard, forced almost. Howie ran to the end of the cafeteria, where a few other Toppats gathered. “Henry, Ah need ya ta come with me. When Ah tell ya to hide, do it and don’t you dare move until Ah come back.” He paused before a man in an icy blue hat. “Sal?”

Sal Malone grabbed a rifle and tossed it to Howie, who ran down one of the halls Henry rarely visited. Henry tried to speak, but any words that could have thought about being formed were choked out of existence. So, instead, he kept up with Howie. Howie skidded to a stop and turned to what looked to be a plain wall. Henry yelped as he collided with the teen. Howie stumbled, but quickly righted himself and took out his security card. A spotlight glared down at them, turned green upon skimming over the card, and then turned off. A section of the wall hissed, sunk in, and then slid into the rest of the wall. Inside was a space four times the size of their bedroom. Henry had no time to observe his new surroundings before Howie shoved him inside.

Henry yelped and spun around. Howie pointed to the room. “Stay here ’til Ah get back. Hide, don’t say a fuckin’ word.” With that, he leaned in, stamped a button with his wrist, and jumped back. The door shut.

Howie’s footsteps immediately went silent. Henry, shivering, looked around. The room was more spacious than he previously assumed as he found more area beyond the door’s sight. Some chairs lined the walls as well as a few medical, mobile beds. A large medicine cabinet was to one corner as well as a pantry. Henry opened the door, finding plenty of water bottles and canned food.

Henry closed the cabinet and suddenly found himself in a chair, too numb and confused to understand how or why he got there.

Distantly, he heard the sound of footsteps. Henry stopped breathing. However, the footsteps didn’t stop and quickly faded.

He gulped and curled up into himself, trembling too hard to have a sturdy grip on himself. _“Stay here ’til Ah get back. Hide, don’t say a fuckin’ word.”_ Howie’s words echoed in his mind. Well, don’t say anything. Have that covered. Words couldn’t even form in his mind, much less escape through his throat.

…

Was time moving?

…

Henry fell over as his world jerked to the side. Although he fell across the seat, a sudden pain gripped his chest. Henry grabbed at his chest, fingernails digging into his shirt. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. No, no, no, no, no, no! No one was going to help him. God, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. Someone please come in, someone please come in, oh no, no, no, no!

Henry gasped for air, but it was as if he was underwater. Nothing that went into his lungs alleviated the pain. He was dying. That was it. He was going to die. He was going to die. He couldn’t breathe. His chest hurt. No one was going to help him. He was alone. He was so alone.

The world jolted, bucking him off the seats.

Henry choked on a wail. Shivering and sweating and cold and in pain, Henry curled up into himself. Centuries passed as Henry vainly tried to struggle against whatever force was oh so slowly killing him.

Someone please help, please help, please help, please–

There was a loud _hiss_ and the door opened.

“Henry!”

Through a fog, he could hear the voice–feminine and sharp and loud.

The woman knelt beside him. “Henry, can you hear me?”

Henry coughed and shuddered, wrapping his arms tighter around his chest.

“Henry, it’s okay. I know you’re scared, but it’s over. You’re alive and okay.” Her voice was soft and gentle and slow. “Just breathe. Take a breath in. Can you do that? Just breathe in.”

“C-c-can’t–”

“You can. Loosen your arms. If you press on your chest, it’s harder to breathe. Let go, Henry, and breathe.”

Henry didn’t want to do as she said, his chest still hurt. But, with further encouragement, he relaxed his grip on himself. There! Yes, there! He gasped and coughed. He followed her instruction on how to breathe. It was achingly slow, but he persisted. As he stayed focused on her instruction and followed it, he could feel himself starting to relax. The pain began to ebb. The panic started to fade.

“That’s a good job,” the woman hummed. “You’re looking better already. See? You’re alive. You got scared, but that’s okay.”

Henry shakily pulled himself to his knees. He hiccupped and drew his sleeve over his face, damp with sweat and tears. “I-I’m… I’m o-okay.”

“Yes, you are just fine,” the woman insisted. “That was a panic attack. They’re very scary, but you can get through them. Like you just did!”

Henry nodded. _Panic attack. He didn’t like panic attacks._ He looked up at her. Sitting beside him, her soft, dark eyes on him, was Carol. “C-Carol?”

Carol nodded. “I’m here.”

Henry’s eyes welled with tears and he sniffled. “D-Dad?”

Carol quietly started to get to her feet. “Wait here, Henry.”

“N-no!” Henry grabbed her sleeve just as she went to leave. What if she left him and the panic attack came back?

“Okay, Henry. I won’t leave you.” Carol sat back down, cross-legged this time in a more permanent stance. “Stay calm. You’re not hurt. I’ll wait here until someone finds us and ask them to find Reginald. Is that okay?”

Henry let go and sat down again. “O-okay.”

“You are just fine, Henry,” Carol soothed. “You’re so brave, you know that?”

The boy whimpered and scrubbed his face with his damp sleeve again.

“Howie! There you are. Fetch Reginald.”

“Ah-Ah–okay!”

It wasn’t very much longer–Carol said perhaps two or three things Henry could hardly catch–before Howie came back. “Henry?” But this voice was not Howie’s.

Henry looked up and there Dad Reginald was, ruffled and suffering a long gash along his arm, but alive. Henry cried and launched himself up at Dad Reginald. The man had hardly gotten to one knee by the time the boy was on him, wrapping his arms so tight around him it almost impaired the man’s breathing.

The shivering came back, but it was okay because he could still breathe–sorta. He was crying, and that was bad, and he tried to stop, but it couldn’t. But he was okay, because Dad Reginald was there and he was alive and Henry was alive, too. But now, as the worst of the panic was over and his little body expended all his energy on the struggle to stay alive, he stopped his trembling.

Then, Henry was no longer on the ground. He held on tight, burying his face in Dad Reginald’s chest. But even though he wasn’t on the ground, he wasn’t falling. He was being held and that was okay. He wasn’t a baby, he could walk, but he was also really tired. In fact, they hadn’t gotten very far before the decision to cling to consciousness was no longer his own.

The first sense that came to Henry was feeling. But it was faint, as if he was swaying on the line of dreams and reality. His head hurt a little, but he lay on something really soft. He was warm. He heard a voice near him, but Henry wasn’t too concerned with it. It was quiet; hardly anything more than a whisper. Maybe he had imagined it, maybe it was just the echoes of his dream. A dream of corridors filled with comforting darkness, a darkness that wrapped its arms around him and guided him further into semi-blindness. Dark corridors flowing with soft whispers like water through a thin, bubbling brook. Masculine, feminine, cracked by prepubescence or deep with age…

Exhaustion tugged at him, its coercive whispers guiding his mind back into the realm of dreams. Still, he was awake. He should get up. He couldn’t go back to sleep, that wasn’t right. When he woke up, he got up. That was the rule.

Henry opened his blurry eyes and yawned.

“Howdy!” the gentle, happy voice appeared beside him. “Henry, are ya awake?”

Henry sat up and looked up at Howie. “Huh…?”

“You’ve been asleep a while,” Howie informed him. “Don’t worry, we’ve saved some breakfast for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Ya know what you need? Some water, a change in clothes. We can meet Reginald in the cafeteria.”

Henry perked up. Okay, he wasn’t so tired anymore.

* * * * *

He was normally good at reading his friend. They had been together for years. Ever since he… arrived on the aircraft. Reginald had been a sporting fellow, sharp and fiercely loyal with a great mind. Right Hand Man had taken a liking to him, but it wasn’t a very quick process. Reginald was _very_ steep in the politics of the Toppats, often drowning himself in everything he could find. He didn’t necessarily follow people like a duckling, no. No, Reginald was the leader, the planner, the doer. He got things done. Right Hand Man did not consider himself a follower, per-say, but he knew his place. In fact, Right Hand Man considered himself wary of Reginald at first, _knowing_ him a dangerously ambitious man with an even more dangerous silver tongue. Right Hand Man knew ambition well, and his intimacy with such ambitious people was the poison that robbed him of his life before. Yet… Reginald proved him wrong. Reginald was not merely ambitious, he was loyal and protective and sought to better the clan.

Then, under circumstance that Right Hand Man and Reginald would both rather take their last breath than speak of, he saw the assumptions he made of the man die. Reginald’s admission of his wariness to Right Hand Man himself were broken, and the two saw eye to eye. Then, they found that great minds think alike. Right Hand Man had a name, then, and he found it in the very person he thought was like the ones who’d stolen it from him.

But now, as Right Hand Man watched Reginald stare at his breakfast with an intensity that could have cooked it, he found himself… at a loss. Confused. Uncertain? There was no clear answer to question Right Hand Man had. What was going through that man’s head?

Right Hand Man looked up upon hearing the small noise of shoes on the floor. Reginald liked to point out how good Right Hand Man was at picking up the slightest noise. _“Perhaps you traded your voice for your hearing,”_ Reginald had once mused, his mind not very clear at the time of speech.

 _“And perhaps you traded your ’earing for your voice,”_ Right Hand Man had shot back, his voice a tad slurred and hard. But Reginald knew there was no malice there and they laughed.

Two people walked into the cafeteria. One was the teenage recruit, Howie. He held onto the younger boy’s hand. Henry walked by him, staring ahead with owlish eyes. _Poor kid_ , he’d thought to himself yesterday evening. The stress of the evening had taken its toll on every member on the ship, it seemed… all but one. But a leader needed to be confident, fearless. A scared leader led a scared crew. Even if Right Hand Man would not be the first to raise his voice in agreement or defense of the man, he still knew Terrence to be their Chief.

“Dad Reginald! Uncle Right!” Henry’s cheerful yell split the silence.

Reginald sat up straight, his attention immediately caught by the boy. Right Hand Man’s expression did not change, but he could hardly put down a smirk. _Now_ he knew what Reginald was thinking about.

Henry rushed away from Howie and barely made it to Reginald in time for the man to leave his seat and go down to one knee. “You’re okay! Thank you!”

“Henry, boy, you’re awake.” Reginald could still state the obvious, it seemed. “Carol and Howie told me what happened.”

Henry’s eyes shut and he tightened his grip on Reginald. What that boy had been taught was a hug was what Right Hand Man had been taught was the proper grip for a suplex. But even if the kid _was_ looking for a fight, he was too small to do any damage that way. But Henry wasn’t going to do any damage, intentionally at least. “I’m sorry.” The boy’s mumbling was hardly audible through Reginald’s shirt. “I got really scared even though I was safe.”

“Henry, we all experience panic attacks,” Reginald said in response, one hand on the boy’s back and the other on his head. Right Hand Man knew Reginald’s right arm to still be a little tender. After all, the bullet that “grazed” his arm had left a bad enough gash. Reginald had insisted Right Hand Man needed help more than he as he was actively being bandaged. But it wasn’t _that_ true; Right Hand Man had suffered worse for longer. “You won’t be alone again.”

Howie signaled to Right Hand Man toward the door to the kitchen. Right Hand Man gave him a short nod. Howie quickly walked off. Howie would do well with some sign language lessons. They served Right Hand Man and Reginald well. Right Hand Man knew quite a bit about language; after all, some of the easiest advantages that conspirators had was a language only shared by them. Perhaps Right Hand Man should work some language lessons into his self-defense lessons for Henry? The boy _was_ taking Russian. But that would be a lot in one place, and a physical lesson shouldn’t be mixed with a thought-heavy one lest both get neglected.

Henry let go and then hopped into the spot between Reginald and Right Hand Man. Was it any other living soul who had done something so stupidly ballsy, there would be a rather strong exchange. But, like to so many other things, the boy was an exception. It helped Henry looked up at him with those bright blue eyes glimmering with excitement and a wide smile holding only the trust and happiness and innocence a child could claim. A child who called him “Uncle Right” with a charm that could turn anyone’s heart soft. Most people, that was; Right Hand Man was immune to such ways, but he did know when there was trust to be had and trust to be protected. Henry was one of those instances. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Baby's first panic attack._  
>  But seriously, panic attacks are no joke. I would seriously recommend learning how to ease yourself or someone else out of one. You don't actually need to have an anxiety disorder of some kind to have a panic attack. I tried to depict it as best I could, but I don't know how a severe one works. I had a minor one at the dentist's office once; I was scared and after I was exhausted. My mom, who actually has anxiety, helped me out of it.
> 
> Also, Carol wasn't shown in a good light in Reginald's or Henry's POV for various reasons; Carol being agitated over adopting a kid into the clan with Reginald, and Henry being reminded of his abusive caretaker. Also, also, I like to think they have multiple "safe rooms," just like they have a whole bunch of escape pods all over the ship. For the young, ill, injured, or otherwise unable to fight. Being safe rooms, they'd be incredibly well hidden and well-stocked. You know Howie won't be making the mistake of leaving Henry alone during an emergency again. >3>


	6. Chief

It was a little bit after breakfast three weeks into his life as a Toppat when he heard a familiar, Jersey voice call his name. “Hey, Henry. I would like a word with you.”

Henry turned around and found himself standing before Chief Terrence Suave. Henry started and said, “U-uh! Hello!”

Chief Terrence smiled. “Don’t be nervous little guy! I don’t bite, I swear! Come on, let’s go sit down, get to know each other!”

“Okay.” Henry followed the chief through the hallways. He never really talked to the man, though he knew Dad Reginald was his second-in-command. Despite being Chief, he didn’t walk like Dad Reginald did. He was looser and relaxed, his hands in the pockets of his black suit pants with his unbuttoned jacket pulled back by the action. His shoes, shiny and black but studded with little blue gems, glinted in the light as he walked. Henry almost felt as if he was walking with just another crew member. Well, he supposed that was fine, but at the same time, he was supposed to command respect. It was great being friends, but Dad Reginald always said that to be a good leader, you needed loyalty and love from and for your crew, sure, but your crew also needed to see you as a definite superior.

Henry’s thoughts were interrupted as Chief Terrence opened the door to the bridge. He sat down at the pilot’s seat and gestured to a chair nearby for Henry to take. As Chief Terrence checked the panel and pressed a few buttons, he said, “So, you’ve been here for a few weeks. I just want to get to know you. I’ve been hearing some very good things from the crew–even aside from Reginald! Which, I expected to hear praise from him, it’s a given.”

Despite knowing that was probably supposed to be a comment acknowledging Dad Reginald’s parental relationship with Henry, it rubbed him the wrong way a little. Henry gained Dad Reginald’s and Uncle Right’s respect through hard work and skill, not just because Dad Reginald adopted Henry. In fact, they chose Henry because of his skills and budding talent. But, whatever. Chief Terrence was being nice. “Thanks,” Henry responded.

Chief Terrence chuckled. “Aw, you’re a little quiet. That’s okay, though! How do you like it here, little guy?”

“Great,” Henry admitted, a little excitement trickling into his voice. “I’m learning a lot!”

“Oh? What are you currently mastering?” Chief Terrence fiddled with the controls a little, but otherwise kept his attention on Henry.

“Pick-pocketing and shooting.”

“Ah, yes, I can see that. Right is teaching you marksmanship, then? I see your hair is much different. Matilda’s doing? Yeah, she’s pretty good at that. We’ve only had Howie here for two years, and he’s not that quick a learner, but I like the champ. Oh!” He sat up straight, as he had previously been slouching, which was really bad for his posture. “Do you want to know a thing or two about piloting an airship?”

“Sure!”

“Come here.” He gestured for Henry to come closer. So, Henry got to his feet and stood by his side. “Now, see this screen here? It’s searching for objects like helicopters, missiles, and waterfowl. Anything that can mess us up. This screen over here shows us anything of interest on the land below, like government vehicles or SAM turrets. Most of the time, we’re able to spot these things before they actually get close enough to be an active threat, but sometimes we gotta employ some evasive maneuvers!” Chief Terrence winked and chuckled.

The chief gave Henry a brief, shallow explanation of the panel, all the buttons associated, and the yolk. What a weird name for a driving stick. Though, “driving stick” was probably an even weirder name.

Their conversation wove between the airship and piloting it, to the skills Henry was obtaining and mastering. Chief Terrence had been a petty criminal when he was in his teen years before joining the Clan. He wasn’t the greatest shot, Chief Terrence himself would be the first to admit this, or the best thief, but he was good with people. The previous chief liked him, and so when he went missing, Chief Terrence took over.

“Reginald was just… the obvious choice as a second,” Chief Terrence admitted. “People respect him, he’s good at plans, and obviously has a smart head on his shoulders for people and new recruits, huh? Hey, maybe one day you’ll be up there with him and Carol and Darius and all the other executives. We’re all friends here, but someone’s gotta be in charge, right?” He chuckled to himself. “Anyway, it was really nice talking to you, Henry.”

“Thanks,” responded Henry, a rather genuine, if small, smile on his lips. “You, too.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Now, I’ve gotta go back to piloting, alright?”

“Bye!”

“Goodbye!”

Henry pulled the chair back to its original place and left the bridge. Chief Terrence… was kind of a nice guy. A little relaxed around things he probably shouldn’t be relaxed around, but nice.

* * * * *

Henry admired his bedazzled mirror-brush again. He just washed his hair, so it was a little shiny and still damp. He sometimes used the brush, but mostly liked using his fingers. Matilda told him that people shed a lot of hair, and tangles sometimes happened because hair that fell out wasn’t properly brushed out and it knotted with hair still attached to his head.

As much as he loved this mirror-brush, he could do more. He had the pearl bracelet, Gameboy, and now a necklace and a handful of rings as well as a few hairclips. He’d picked up most of the small items from the ground or on tables when they caught his eye. So, most of the stuff he pickpocketed was money or the occasional wallet. He did find some faux gems, once. He got to keep them because they were “worthless.” What was worthless about those diamonds? They shined in the light, though they were admittedly a little cloudy and translucent. But Henry liked them.

He heard footsteps approach the door. Instantly, the mirror-brush was in his backpack and his backpack was under his bed.

Howie stepped inside, a bag over his shoulder. “Howdy, Henry! Hey, Ah’ve been meaning to ask… what’s with the bag?”

“Bag?” Henry parroted.

“Yeah, that backpack ya keep hidin’. Are ya afraid Ah’m gonna steal it or somethin’? ’Cause Ah won’t, Ah promise. On ma honor, Ah’d never steal from a fellow Toppat,” Howie vowed.

Henry shook his head. “No.”

Howie shrugged and hung up his hat. “Alright, little buddy. Ah won’t press. Just curious is all. Yer side of the room is kinda bare, but that’s okay. Ta each their own.” He set down his bag and walked into their shared bathroom.

Henry watched him go and then looked around the room. Indeed, Henry’s side was bare. Howie pulled up posters and pictures and hung some items of sentimental value, like artifacts from the scene of a crime, or a nice scarf a girlfriend gave him. Though, from what Henry knew, this was probably an ex-girlfriend. Howie even had a horse-themed throw blanket and matching pillowcase. Henry’s blanket and pillowcase were a plain baby blue.

Henry was tempted to bring out his backpack but stopped himself. There were plenty of things he could hang up as decoration. In fact, he still had his first target practice sheet. There were places where he could attach a few hooks and hang some of the stuff he pilfered. But… he didn’t. Despite having a bed to himself and half a bedroom, he still refused to put up decorations. Rationally, he knew Howie wouldn’t take any of his things, especially since they lived together. Where would he take them? To get sold and then for Henry to find out and there to be some sort of trouble? Nah, Howie was a very firm believer in “honor among thieves” and quite liked Henry. The only other people that would be in this room would be Dad Reginald or Uncle Right, and that’s if they were summoning Henry. Howie wasn’t in their room enough to have someone look for him there. So, why didn’t Henry put up his things so he could look at them all the time rather than when he sneaked them out when no one was around?

Well, if Henry knew the answer to that he would have a solution by now.

Anyway, Henry should be getting ready for some shooting practice. Uncle Right promised to take him out today, and he didn’t want to be late.

“Uncle Right?” Henry asked as he loaded the BB gun.

“Yeah?”

“Am I going to go to school?”

“Of course.” The answer was instantaneous, as if he had been expecting the question. “Reg and I decided going to a public school would be best. You and I will still practice on the weekends, and you will come back each day to practice and use your skills.”

Henry put the gun on safety and set his finger on the trigger guard. “Why?”

“You need to get an education.”

“But, can’t I learn here?”

“Continue. We will be ’ere to ’elp you, as you’ll ’elp us. But Reg thought public school would be best. ’E said it’s the best way to socialize you.”

 _Pop!_ Henry watched as a can jumped from the wooden square it had been set upon. He cocked the gun again. “But you didn’t say that.”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Public school won’t teach you the skills you need. But I supposed Reg is right about ’ow it will socialize you.”

 _Pop!_ A box splintered and wobbled from its perch. Henry cocked the gun. “Okay. Do you think I’ll make friends there?”

“…maybe,” Uncle Right conceded. “But remember: you won’t be making many life-long friends in primary school. Stop.”

Henry lowered his gun and activated the safety and set his finger on the trigger guard. He turned completely to Uncle Right. “Yeah?”

“This is important, so pay attention. No matter what, do not let anyone know you’re a Toppat.” Uncle Right’s tone took a _very_ serious turn. Normally, Uncle Right was serious. In fact, there were very few times where his mood seemed to be lifted even a little. But this look that he was giving Henry was a new brand that he didn’t recognize from _anyone_ –not even Dad Reginald when Henry messed up that pick-pocketing trick on the man who everyone then accused of attempted kidnapping and got the police involved. “You are a Toppat; you were brought into our ranks and you ’ave served us well with loyalty and skill and determination. But the Toppats are a clan of thieves, and if anyone finds out you’re one, you won’t go to any school without scrutiny–if they’ll let you in at all. You won’t be making the right friends and you will put us in danger. Understand?”

“Yes, Uncle Right.”

“Good.” He relaxed a little. “Continue. You start school in August and end in May.”

_Two more months of summer vacation. Huh. This was summer vacation. Well, it was fun, if grueling at times._

* * * * *

Here Reginald thought it was going to be _easy_. It would be just another plan to invest in the clan, something everyone would contribute to.

But, as Reginald waited slightly-less-than-patiently near the Bridge, he realized that not everything was this simple. Sure, infiltrating a prison to let out some captured Toppats or breaking into a vault wasn’t _simple_ , per say, or even easy, but it was something Reginald knew. He was used to making and enacting these plans–though a lot of his ideas were frustratingly shot down by Chief Terrance who thought they were “boring”–and so he took this certainty for granted. So, when Terrance’s rambling inadvertently mixed with Reginald’s consideration of Howie’s actions earlier that day, the brilliant idea of adopting another crewmember came to mind. It really was a sharp idea if he said so himself. Who would hate the system more than parentless children ruled by it, after all? But Reginald very well knew he was _not_ a father. In fact, he was not a big fan of children, and he didn’t even have a romantic partner, but his idea had been brilliant, and the plan was to raise the kid as a community; to learn skills from everyone and be raised with the mindset and heart of a Toppat. Old enough to not require constant attention, young enough to grasp concepts and form emotional attachment quickly.

Now, Reginald knew that Henry was doing exactly this. In fact, right now, Right Hand Man was outside in some remote shooting range teaching Henry how to shoot. Just yesterday Henry spent a few hours with Matilda learning how to make and utilize a disguise, though he caught the boy simply following her like a duckling for a while. Howie was living in the same room as Henry and would be until he was at least eighteen; old enough to go on missions. Neither of the boys seemed put out by the fact, and Reginald often caught the two talking and doing chores together.

But now, as Reginald waited by the Bridge, he found that not all plans became a reality in a way he expected. He hadn’t lied when he said he enjoyed teaching Henry; the boy was a quick and very focused learner. He wasn’t well mannered at first, more a show of how he was raised than who he was, but that just made it all the more, well, interesting. But when Henry had woken from a nightmare, he left his room and went straight to Reginald for comfort and protection. Reginald knew Howie would have gladly helped Henry, and Henry had also taken a liking to Matilda who seemed more than able to calm him down. Henry and Right Hand Man went out to shooting practice every other day; they probably interacted more than Henry and Reginald. But, no. Henry’s first response was to go to _Reginald._ To trust Reginald.

Oldmin spotted him from down the storage unit and approached him, a box under one arm. “Hey, uh, Reginald? Yeah, the bookstore, uh, had this for you.”

“Thank you, Oldmin,” Reginald said as he took the box. His crewmember walked past him into the bridge. Oldmin was never one for lengthy conversations and, being one who was good and reliable with gathering supplies, he was the go-to man when it came to shopping. In fact, their fellow crewmembers had made a habit of asking Oldmin when he was next going out and asking for a favor. Oldmin almost never asked questions nor did he turn down an offer, whether he got anything out of it or not. The only two conditions were that it not be used against the Toppat clan, and that they order it ahead of time. If unable to pay it ahead of time, then give him the cash required. Maybe he just liked walking through the town or going into shops?

Regardless, Reginald found himself walking through the storage area, the deceptively weighty cardboard box under his arm as he went. He got to his room quickly enough and turned on a light. A desk at the end of the room opposite his bed sat comfortably in the corner, a reading light sitting on the corner hunched over like a haggard buzzard, a short stack of papers to one side with a mesh cup-shaped holder heavy with office supplies next to it. Reginald had a tablet that contained everything he’d ever need; all the files, papers, receipts, everything. But quite a few of the things he kept were originals in folders in the drawers under his desk.

Reginald sat down and pulled one of the half dozen books he had ordered from its package. Most of it was plain orange with simple lettering that switched between dark at the top and light in the center and dark blue on the bottom. A few photographs cut and pasted next to each other like a film roll fit snugly between the first and second part of the title. There was nothing like reading to learn something, right? Well, there was advice from people with firsthand experience. There were plenty of people in the Toppat Clan with such experience. Some who were even learning as well.

But Reginald was, uh, too busy to ask them, and they likewise. So, while he had some time open in his day, he opened the book and glanced at the descriptor. “This parenting book shows you how to raise self-confident, motivated children who are ready for the real world. Learn how to parent effectively while teaching your children responsibility and growing their character. Establish healthy control through easy-to-implement steps without anger, threats, nagging, or power struggles. Indexed for easy reference.”

* * * * *

Slowly, Henry’s backpack filled with more and more items until there was little room left. The months had been kind to Henry, and he only slipped up a few times. Matilda’s training in disguise and Howie’s teachings of manipulation came in handy during this mess ups. If worse came to worse, Dad Reginald and Uncle Right were there to help. But they rarely helped. If Henry was to learn from his mistakes, he would need to pull himself out of them first, after all. Still, it was nice to know there were people who had his back. And, of course, it was nice to know people trusted him enough to know he had their backs, too.

Thomas Chestershire and Geoffry Plumb, two men who didn’t often cross paths with Henry, quickly became great pals. Chestershire held an air of noble class, but somehow wasn’t snobbish about it. He always wore a suit and two monocles for twice the class. He mostly stayed in the bridge with Oldmin reviewing paperwork and working with numbers and the ship. However, on a few occasions where Henry needed to go out, but Dad Reginald and Uncle Right were incredibly busy, one of them took him out.

Chestershire was giddy when it came to helping Henry refine his technique. Impressed with Henry’s abilities at such a young age, he dropped hints at possibly learning how to go through some of the heists older members went through. These heists were incredibly dangerous and thus an eleven-year-old was not to even touch the plans with a six-foot-pole, but a little training never hurt. Well, it didn’t hurt _him,_ but Chestershire certainly got chewed out by Dad Reginald who knew Henry would use this newfound knowledge to conduct a heist of his own or sneak onto one. Henry promised not to sneak into anything or do anything stupid until he was old enough to do so, which thankfully let Chestershire off the hook… with a little more convincing from Henry and a warning not to do it again from Dad Reginald.

Geoffrey didn’t work in the bridge, but he _was_ seen with Chestershire more often than Henry would expect. Geoffrey was often the first to investigate a disturbance on the ship, and almost always had a good idea on how to deal with it. He was good at coming up with plans, and eager to do so. Henry found that he liked following Geoffrey around, watching him deal with various disturbances in technology or even scraps between Toppats who simply couldn’t get along for one reason or another. Of course, most of these “scraps” weren’t physical, but loud. If they _did_ get physical, Geoffrey would call for reinforcements and the offending parties would get sent off somewhere far away from each other, first and foremost, and then dealt with. Those ones were scary, and Henry found he did _not_ like breaking up fights. Watching Geoffrey do it was fine; he never panicked over it and knew how to handle the situation, between whoever it was. He also taught Henry about the different alarm systems, but not how to disarm them as that was Geoffrey’s job, not a kid’s. Of course, Henry managed to weasel a little bit out of him and soon enough the man was showing Henry exactly what he had to do to disarm and rearm an alarm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Infiltrating the Airship** : Terrence Suave; "The previous leader of the Toppat Clan. He was overthrown because of his reckless nature and poor leadership."  
>  **Completing the Mission** : Terrence Suave; "One of the worst leaders the Toppat clan has ever had. He would launch raids that made no sense, just for the thrill."
> 
> I thought he was an interesting character and I was pretty giddy when he turned out to be the one Reginald overthrew. It was the perfect opportunity to show just how different Terrence and Reginald's leadership was like, and how Henry thought of it. Henry's a kid, so he's not really thinking about the nuances of leadership and running the airship; just what he hears and sees and how he's treated.  
> Also, finally tying in Chestershire and Geoffrey!  
> Also, Also: I gave Terrence a Jersey accent. Since we never hear nor see him, I thought it would be funny.


	7. Educated

Henry had been in public school since he was of the age to do so. However, he went to the same elementary school all his life with mostly the same people in New Mexico. Today, he approached a new building in a new state with Dad Reginald and Uncle Right. The Nevada sun blazed bright and hot over them. The building before them, surrounded on two sides by parking lots clustered with cars and yellow buses, beaconed them with an air-conditioned chill.

Henry followed his adopted father and uncle, gripping the straps of his backpack tight with hands he could barely stop from shaking. As they entered the double set of double glass doors, Henry took a hold of Dad Reginald’s sleeve and stuck between him and Uncle Right. He didn’t look up, not even when he grabbed Dad Reginald’s attention through the small action.

Henry inwardly cursed himself, summoning into his imagination some of the colorful words he overheard from other adults both in his past and in his present. _Stop being stupid! You’re supposed to be brave! You’re smart and skilled and you’re Henry Stickmin, recruit in the Toppat Clan! You’ll earn your hat in a few years, but right now you still have to learn and grow. You need to be at school to learn so buck up and stop being such a coward!_

Still, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help his racing heart or his tense muscles pulling him into himself like a turtle. Henry had faced down plenty of things, but this… this giant building swarming with kids his age or within a few years, under the authority of people he didn’t know and who could abuse their power however they wish. A place where he was alone, _vulnerable._

Henry swallowed and took a deep breath. No, no. He wasn’t in school right now. He was with Dad Reginald and Uncle Right preparing for school. That meant last minute checks of paperwork and then a printed schedule.

A teenage girl walked out from behind the desk with a paper in hand. “Hello, sirs! Hello… Henry! I’m Alyssa. I’ll show you around the school and teach you a bit about it. You’re new, right?”

Henry nodded.

“Okay. Well, I don’t know how your old school worked, but here all students get to shine and be their best. Also, we don’t keep our personal things with us. You will have a locker with a lock assigned to you where you will put your things. You can access your locker before the first bell, before and after lunch, and after school. You will keep your backpack, books, lunch box, and other personal stuff there. The teachers don’t want students tripping over backpacks. Also, if you have any electronics on you, they should always be turned off and put away. Come on! I’ll show you to the cafeteria.”

Although they followed the girl, Henry still stuck close to Dad Reginald and, when her back was turned, narrowed his eyes at her in a distrustful glare. Whenever she turned to look at him, Henry immediately lost the look. However, he would regain it when she stopped looking at him.

The school was weirdly organized despite being sprawling and, at first glance, a little confusing to Henry. All the halls were quite similar, as were most of the doors to most of the rooms. When he got to his tip-toes to peek through one of the tall, thin windows showing the inside of the classroom, he found most of them empty but prepared as if ready for class to start at any second.

“This is the cafeteria,” Alyssa said, stopping and gesturing to the large empty room. Large, circular tables were folded and set up against the walls. In the front wall, there were a few doors that were closed, but marked as being for food lines. The left walls were mostly gone, replaced by some half walls and guard rails for descending stairs. “The tables are folded up most of the day, except breakfast and lunch. The lunch line starts in there. But if you already have lunch, you can sit down. All students are expected to stay at their tables unless grabbing food, dumping trays, or going to the bathroom until the bell rings.”

With that, she led them around to the other end of the building, to a set of double doors. “This is the bus stop. You’ll get your bus number from the Office, as all the buses have different routes. At the end of the day, you’ll gather here or preferably outside. If you’re not going on the bus but getting picked up, you can go through these doors and down the sidewalk. There’s a place for parents or guardians to pick up their kids. So, sirs, you’ll need to talk to the office and get to know some of the teachers so that someone on duty can recognize your car. We don’t want any students getting into the wrong cars! Also, you can park your bike or something over there if you have one.” She looked down at her paper. “Okay, let’s look for your classes.”

Henry had six different classes in total he needed to attend throughout the day: English, Reading, Math, PE, Science, and an elective of his choice, which turned out to be a Russian language class. The day prior, when looking at the school and the classes that it offered, Henry had chosen a language course. At first, he thought band would be great, but he realized he would need to go on a lot of trips and preform, and that would take a lot of time. But Russian sounded like a good language to learn.

Finally, thankfully, the tour came to an end and they were again at the office. Alyssa handed him his paper and went back to doing whatever she was doing behind the desk.

Henry didn’t realize how tense he had been until they were again outside. His hands hurt from gripping the strap on his backpack and Dad Reginald’s sleeve so tightly.

“Henry, boy,” Dad Reginald said as they made their way back to their car. “Relax.”

“Sorry,” Henry mumbled and let go.

“Is… something wrong with the school?” Dad Reginald shot a glance back at the building.

Henry shook his head. “No.” His eyes darted around, spotting multiple children and parents or guardians in the parking lot, entering or exiting vehicles or the building. _Just let them get back to the airship._

So, they did. They had no other business in the town. Henry had all the books and notebooks and pencils and school supplies he would need. There was nothing Dad Reginald or Uncle Right needed from town, either. But, as they left the school ground, Henry relaxed again and gained his old smile. School was scary, and it would continue to be scary. But as long as he was with Dad Reginald and Uncle Right, he had nothing to fear.

“Ya look spooked.”

Henry looked up from his lap, his legs swinging under him on his bed. “Huh?”

Howie hung up his hat and plopped down on his bed opposite of Henry. “School troubles already?”

Henry grimaced and looked at his lap again. “Yeah.”

“Hey, chin up, man! It’s not that bad!” Howie gave him a bright smile. “You’ll be the best and brightest and most popular kid in school in no time. No one’ll have the guts ta mess with ya.”

Henry chuckled at this. “W-well, thanks. That didn’t happen before, though.” His faint, nervous smile left him.

Howie’s smile faded as well. “Hey, little buddy. Look at me.”

Henry reluctantly raised his eyes. His bright blue ones met Howie’s brown ones.

“Yer the brightest kid Ah know. You’ll be jus’ fine.” He glanced around as if there could be anyone hiding in their room and leaned forward. “But if they do, just tell me who they are an’ Ah’ll make sure they never try it again.”

Henry chuckled, though the noise had no amusement in it. “Thanks, but I need to learn to take care of my own problems. I can’t let kids push me around anymore. But… I just…” he scrubbed his face with his sleeve, cursing the dampness he now felt on his forearm.

Howie got up and set both hands on Henry’s shoulders. “Yer days at the orph’nage are over, Henry. Remember that. You’re stronger than ya think, much more than ya were a few months ago. You’re not alone, either.”

Henry hiccupped and nodded. “Y-yeah. Thanks, Howie.”

Howie smiled and cocked his head. “Any time, little buddy. Wanna play some games on ma Gameboy?”

Henry perked up. “Sure!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Way shorter chapter than usual, but it didn't quite fit in the previous or next chapter. I didn't want to make it longer nor did I want to cut it out completely so here we are!
> 
> Oh, and I've been assembling my Halloween costume, in mid-September, as you do. I finally got a top hat a couple of days ago and holy _crap_ , WHY did these go out of style?! They're amazing! I know why the Toppat Clan loves them. I feel all more powerful wearing it. Mua-ha-ha!
> 
> Oh, and Henry goes to school, silly rascal!


	8. Bell Rings

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

Henry woke up with a tiny groan. He opened his bleary eyes to see Howie’s alarm clock. _5:30 AM_ glared at him in bright green letters. Howie complained loudly and smacked at the alarm clock. Undeterred, the alarm clock continued its electronic crowing.

“Fuck off…” Howie grumbled and got up onto his elbow. Unfortunately, when he went to paw at the giant button on its top that would plunge them into merciful silence, he knocked it over. The screaming electronic fell on the floor beyond his reach. No cord plugged the alarm into the wall that he could pull. “Motherfucker,” Howie hissed under his breath and dragged himself out of bed.

Henry, wide awake now that the beeping had thoroughly drilled itself into his head, threw off his covers and got up as well.

The beeping ended.

Biting back a yawn, Henry grabbed the neatly folded clothes on top of the chest at the foot of his bed. He looked back at Howie who was messing with his closet. So, Henry went into the bathroom first.

Normally, Henry would take a shower. Every other morning, he was supposed to take a shower, but only on Saturday was he supposed to wash his hair, and Wednesday he was supposed to just rinse some conditioner into it to keep it clean. Still, Howie always took first shower. Monday was shower day, especially since it was the first day of school. Dad Reginald got mad at him when he tried to ignore shower day. So, Henry poked his head out the door. “Howie?”

“Sure, li’l buddy,” Howie said with a dismissive wave of his hand, head resting on the door jamb of his closet and eyes closed.

Henry, slightly confused that Howie would ever agree to anything without hearing its terms, said, “Thanks?”

When Henry got out of the shower, Howie was still in the same place, his breaths light and even. Henry patted his arm. Howie jerked awake. “Whazzup? Huh?”

“Um, it’s the morning.”

“Righ’, righ’. Thanks.” Howie grabbed his morning outfit and dragged himself into the bathroom.

Henry pulled his backpack from under his bed and checked it over. All of his school supplies were inside and none of his shiny bobbles or accessories. Those were kept further under his bed in a pillowcase.

Henry pulled his backpack on and sat on the bed, waiting patiently for the shower to stop running. When it did, and Howie emerged from the bathroom, he was standing straighter and his eyes were brighter, and his hair still had a slight sheen. Although he bit his fist to hold back a yawn, he greeted Henry in a clearer voice. Henry opened the door and led them out into the hallway. While quite a few crew members went home to their families, there were still many crew members who slept in the airship. Dad Reginald, Uncle Right, and Mr. Thicc were among them.

Henry whispered, “It’s a good thing you remembered to change your alarm.”

Howie shook his head. “Nope. That was _my_ adopted father, Mr. Rich. Probably figured he could sleep in a while. Why we don’t jus’ rent an apartment or somethin’ nearby fer the weekdays and wake up at a godly hour Ah jus’ don’t know.”

Henry shrugged. “My school starts at eight, but kids can come in at seven.”

Howie nodded. “Same. Mine starts ’round eight. Ya reckon ever’body else is jus’ waitin’ ’til seven ta wake up?”

“Henry? Howie?” Dad Reginald’s voice took their attention as they approached the cafeteria doors.

Henry smiled and waved. “Good morning, Dad Reginald!”

“Mornin’,” Howie greeted.

Uncle Right came up from behind Dad Reginald, his stance a little looser than his usual self. “I ’ad thought you would still be asleep.”

Howie snorted. “Ah wish. Reginald? Why are we wakin’ up so early? Can’t we jus’ stay in Boulder City an’ wait this out fer the week?”

“We had considered that,” Dad Reginald said as he opened the cafeteria door and led them inside. “However, we did not want you to stay alone and we also did not want to station anyone semi-permanently in Boulder City or Las Vegas.”

Howie nodded. “Yeah, guess so. But Ah gotta ask.”

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed. “Haven’t you been here for a couple of years, Howie?”

“Yeah, but it never hurts ta ask.”

They heard a rustle from the kitchen as they approached. When they opened the door, they found Mr. Thicc, dressed up and bringing ingredients out to cook. A few other people were further inside, but Henry couldn’t see them.

“Huh? What are–oh, right. We have a few plates over there.” Mr. Thicc gestured to the counter close to the door before going back to the pantry.

What had been prepared, Henry found with a grin, was pancakes and eggs. With a bright “Thanks!” to Mr. Thicc, Henry took his plate.

“Oh, and that box is yours, you two,” Mr. Thicc called without looking back.

Two boxes sat neatly next to the plates. One was soft and light blue with cars speckling its fabric surface. The other was hard and square and beige with a horse on its front. Henry took the blue one by the handle. “Thank you very much, Mr. Thicc!”

They said their greetings and thanks and made their way to the tables. Howie, who normally sat with Mr. Rich farther away in Table Three, was opposite them on Table One today.

Henry asked, “When are we coming home?”

“Two twenty,” Dad Reginald informed them. “Both of your schools end at roughly the same time.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Henry wasted no more time in turning his attention to his breakfast. Why did he have to eat proper this morning? It always took longer. But even earlier in the morning, Henry suspected Dad Reginald would not be lenient. Oh well.

They arrived near the schools at 6:45, giving them plenty of time to walk the rest of the way. Howie waved them goodbye about halfway there and took his own route to the high school. Henry watched him go but didn’t say anything. Howie was a teenager and went to high school, so it only made sense that he walked to school on his own.

When they arrived at the middle school, there weren’t too many students or cars in the parking lot. Still, Henry tensed up and stuck closer to Dad Reginald’s side again. Suddenly, he asked, “Do I have to?”

“Yes, Henry. It’s important to get an education,” Dad Reginald reminded him.

Henry took a deep breath and, holding the straps of his backpack tight, glanced back at Reginald, who nodded and gestured to the growing throng of kids. “Remember, Henry: there is nothing about school you can’t handle. You are a sharp boy and will grow into a brave and clever man. This is just one of the trials you must take to get there.”

Henry gulped and nodded. “Th-thanks. Bye, Dad Reginald, Uncle Right.” With that, he approached the school.

Henry took out a folded piece of paper. His classes, the times, and the room numbers of said classes were written on it. He glanced at his shiny wristwatch. _7:00 AM_ stared right back at him. He took a deep breath and walked through the group of kids. He was nearly to the other side when some older boys, wrestling and laughing and jeering, pushed into him. Henry fell onto his side with a yelp. The older boys continued their play, their friends whooping and chanting their names beside them.

A hand reached out, close to Henry’s. The boy looked up to see another his age, a look of concern lighting up his features, his light green eyes on Henry. Henry wordlessly took his hand and the boy pulled him up. Henry could feel the crinkly material of the boy’s deep green bomber jacket under his fingers as the cuffs of the too-big clothes reached his palms. “Whoa, that was a close one! Are you okay?”

Henry nodded and brushed off his clothes. Thankfully, no dust or dirt that he could see grazed his shirt.

The other boy let out a breath of relief. “That’s good! I almost thought they would run you over! You’re new here, right?”

Henry nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Wait… I recognize you! From Sandwich City!” Charles exclaimed.

Henry perked up.

After a short silence, Charles held out his hand. “I’m Charles. Who are you?”

Henry hesitantly took it. “Henry.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Henry! You’re pretty new here, and I am a little bit, too. But I already know this school like the back of my hand. That means I can show you to your classes! Unless you already know where they are. Which you probably do.”

Henry narrowed his eyes in concentration. He could recall the student assistant showing him and Dad Reginald and Uncle Right around the school and pointing out where Henry’s classes would be. But a refresher never hurt. Besides, Uncle Right said he and Dad Reginald thought school would “socialize him.” So, Henry needed to socialize. This Charles kid was being nice, so he was a good start? Slowly, Henry nodded. “Okay.”

“Cool! Okay, what’s your schedule like? Or, uh, your first class?”

Henry brought out his schedule. _English._

Charles opened it up and looked it over. “Aaah! Okay! Yeah, come with me. Eh, you’ll need to put your backpack away before class. Do you know where your locker is?”

Henry nodded. That was easy; his locker number was the same as his box number in Red Mesa.

“Good. …oooh! Look at that! You have the same PE class that I do. 11:26, fourth period. Which means you have first lunch, too. Cool! Eh, anyway, English is just down here.” Henry followed Charles, his gaze flitting about the hallways as they moved, but still mostly concentrated on the boy. Charles checked the name of Henry’s first period teacher and claimed Charles had her class for sixth period. Soon, they had traveled around the school, marching from English to Reading to Math, and then the Cafeteria before going to the PE room, science lab, and lastly the World Language classroom. That is, when they managed to actually _find_ the classrooms. Charles wasn’t as well-versed in this new school as he thought. But they made it to both of their classes.

Charles double checked the paper. “You’re taking Russian? Why?”

Henry recalled overhearing the language when a few Toppat Clan members struggled to decipher it in a spied conversation. He shrugged.

“…I mean, good for you, I guess. I decided to go into Band. My grandpa plays the flute!”

Henry perked up and tipped his head a little.

Charles grinned. “Yep! He said that he was the best wind instrument in the band. His school always won awards. After school, he didn’t go into a band or anything, but he always plays a few songs on the holidays when we come to visit. Grandparents are great, right? Yeah, most of them are super great. But I have a grandma on my dad’s side who’s not so great, but that’s okay, because we don’t visit her often.” He folded up the schedule of classes and gave it back to Henry. “Anyway, it’s pretty early. What do you normally do before class?”

 _Practice locking other peoples’ lockers._ Henry shrugged.

Charles hummed. “Well… class is going to start in about half an hour. Do you like any kinda computer games?”

Henry shook his head.

The other boy blinked, as if the concept of not having a favorite computer game or even a computer in one’s home or access to it at school was a foreign concept. It’s not like there weren’t computers in the airship, but Henry always had other things he had, or wanted, to do. “Really? Oh, man! I found this really tough game, Helicopter Game. It’s really fun! Want to try it out?”

The two put their backpacks in their respective lockers, holding onto their notebooks and pencils, and went to the computer lab. Currently, someone was at the far end, working on what looked like a word document. Charles hopped onto one of the computers in the middle of the room hugging the wall. Henry sat beside him, watching as the boy typed in his password quicker than Henry thought possible and, with a few clicks of a mouse and strokes of a keyboard, came to a rather simple looking screen. It was dark green with a generously large ceiling and floor of lime green. A helicopter with a rather out of place amount of detail was in the middle of the screen. Instructions on how to move the helicopter, by pressing and holding the mouse, stamped the front.

“In this game, you just want to go as far as you can without hitting any of the obstacles.”

As soon as Charles activated the game to show him how it was played, the two were engrossed in the game, Charles cheering and boasting at each high score beaten and booing when the helicopter unfairly hit the ceiling or floor or one of the obstacles. Even though Charles was beating Henry at the game, or if Henry got a better score, he still encouraged and praised Henry and complained at the unfairness of Henry’s defeats. Just as Henry was attempting to–and failing at–breaking Charles’ high score of two thousand, the alarm on his watch let out a beep.

_Briiiiiing!_

The boys immediately looked up. Henry’s helicopter crashed into an obstacle. Outside, the hallways grew crowded as students moved to their classes. Charles closed the browser and logged out of his account. “Ah, well, we can play more later. Actually, I know some more games we can play,” he said as they walked. “Do you want to meet up at lunch?”

Henry nodded and smiled right back. Man, Charles’ enthusiasm was so infectious! With a pang, as they separated, Henry reminisced on his time before. No one was quite like Charles. No one not only had as much cheer but was able to put such cheer into Henry–on accident or on purpose.

He walked straight into the classroom he was assigned. Henry stood by the door for a short time, scouting out which seat he would like. Eventually, he decided on one of the seats in the middle right. It wasn’t at the back nor the front or center. But it still had a good view of the whiteboard. Unfortunately, he sat behind a girl whose ponytail spilled onto his desk.

“Good morning, class!” their teacher called, pushing away from her desk, and approaching the whiteboard in the middle of the front wall. Introductions were first, with the teacher calling out a name and requiring a student to raise their hand to acknowledge it. But little was done beyond that before diving into the first lesson.

Henry paid attention as best he could. Despite speaking English, the class dragged on and on and each note he scribbled down took an eternity to finish, especially as the adult responsible for teaching them spoke faster than he could write.

He had to do well. After all, the other students were paying attention and writing and none of them seemed lost. If Henry was smart, he would get good grades. If he got good grades, it would show that he was smart, and Dad Reginald would be proud of that. It would give Henry a good image, and so it could give him respect, which Dad Reginald would also like.

Henry nearly slapped himself as he felt his mind start to wander and went straight back to note taking.

After the bell rang, Henry had his notebook closed, mechanical pencil stuck in the rings of his notebook, and was out in the hall. He followed the path of posters and windows he remembered seeing with Charles until he was at his second class: Literature. How could they make a whole class dedicated to _just_ reading? Isn’t that what English was for? Or, for what English was? Or something?

Henry’s attention span started to thin in his literature class. Thankfully, math class took his attention and he was concentrating as well as he ever could. Still, the nagging thought that lunch was coming up tugged at his mind, trying to turn his thoughts from geometry to whatever Charles had planned next. Henry hadn’t played on the computer before Charles. Where he lived before, they were not only unable to afford it but unwilling to turn whatever ones they had into toys for the kids to break or misuse, and then he moved to place where he didn’t need to bother with the thought. But Charles came from a family that not only had a computer but used it to play games. His family also probably wasn’t part of a clan of thieves. That Henry knew of, anyway.

_Briiiiiing!_

Chairs squeaked and cloth snapped as children got to their feet and hurried out. Henry, carried away by the crowd, made his way to his locker, where his lunch box waited for him. He tossed his notebooks into the locker, locked it, and hurried to the cafeteria.

“Hey! Henry!”

Henry turned around. Charles turned his walk into a run as he met up with Henry. “Hey! Oh, you brought lunch from home? Cool! I didn’t. Uh, I could show you where I normally sit, first. In case you don’t want to stand in line with me.”

Henry shook his head.

“I was hoping you would say that.” Charles chuckled and ran toward the front, hurrying to get into line before the disorganized crowd behind them took shape enough to block them. “Whoo!” he puffed. “So, I wanted to ask. Um, where did you come from? Oh, wait, um, if you don’t want to answer, that’s okay. I came from Missouri. We lived near Kansas City for two years. My parents move a lot, so I don’t really remember where I was _born._ Was it California? Arkansas? Eh, I don’t know. I hope we stay here a little while longer ’cause I don’t think Ellie will move with us, you know? Does your family move a lot?”

Charles and Henry paused only long enough for Charles to gather his meal from the lunch ladies and usher out of the small space children filed into. Henry looked over Charles’ meal. It was still better than what Henry had before, but now that Henry had what Howie called “real food,” it did look a little… dull? Lifeless? What was the word for it?

Charles sat in a table some ways away from the line, near to the garbage bins flanking the outside of the cafeteria. “Henry, these are some buddies of mine. Guys, this is Henry. He’s new here!”

Henry shrunk into himself as he saw at least three different people there. A set of ginger twins and a black-haired girl sat around the table. The girl smiled. “Hey, Henry! Yeah, I don’t remember seeing you. Just got transferred in?”

Henry glanced at Charles, who sat down and gave him an encouraging nod. Henry sat between him and one of the twin boys. Henry nodded, but again, couldn’t speak.

The girl and twins hummed their understanding. One of the ginger boys chipped in, “Ours move a lot. In fact, our families are pretty tight! By the way, the name’s Konrad. This is my little brother, Calvin.”

“Actually, _I’m_ the older brother,” Calvin immediately cut in.

“Mom said I was first.”

“That’s not what Dad said!”

“Dad was messing with you.”

The girl piped up, “Konrad and Calvin are the Bukowski twins. If you hear one of them over the speaker phone, it’s probably both of them and they got in trouble for fighting.”

“We don’t _fight_ ,” said the twins at once, their voices merged into one.

Konrad hesitated and then Calvin finished, “Much.”

The girl chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m Joan. Nice to meet you, Henry.”

Henry merely smiled back, though the action was a little crooked and awkward.

Charles grinned. “Henry’s a blast! We were playing the Helicopter Game all morning!”

The trio groaned. Joan said, “You literally play that game with anyone who’ll look at you for more than five minutes. Why not something like Curveball?”

Calvin chipped in, “Or Spank the Monkey?”

Konrad piped up, “–or Interactive Buddy?”

Charles pouted. “Yeah, well, there aren’t many games about aircraft or flying.”

Before anyone could refute Charles’ statement, someone plopped down between Charles and Joan. “’Sup? Oh! Henry? Hey, dude!”

Henry tipped his head to look at her. He gave her a smile and a little wave.

“Oooh, box lunch! Me, too!” Ellie held up a lavender, floral box.

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you asking about why my lunch box is floral?” _No, but okay?_ “Funny story. So, anyway, I was in the bathroom. You didn’t bad mouth me to the new kid, did you, Charles?”

“No!”

Henry glanced at his watch and resumed taking out his lunch–a ham and cheese sandwich with wide lettuce leaves and a few candied carrots next to it.

“Oh, you brought real food,” Joan commented as she opened her bag. “Me, too! Here, Charles.” She tossed an apple at him. Immediately, he caught it with a quick. “Thanks!”

Ellie brought out half a chicken breast and set it on Charles’ plate. “My sacrifice, Charles.”

“Thank you!” Charles responded and offered his carton of milk. She waved it off and brought out a reusable water bottle filled with dark purple juice.

“Anyway,” Ellie began and looked over at Henry. “What do you have planned after school?”

Henry shrugged, looking down at his food.

“Eh, home, maybe? Bor-ing! Charles and I are heading to my place to play Smash. You seem pretty cool. Wanna join? Joan’s coming, too. Right?”

Joan nodded. “Yep.”

“We’re not,” said Calvin.

“Dad doesn’t like Ellie,” Konrad explained.

Joan looked at him. “Why don’t you just say you’re going over to Charles’ place like I do?”

Calvin explained, “Because Mom always calls ahead.”

“Oh. Man, your parents suck.”

Konrad stuck his tongue out. “No! Our parents are military. Of _course_ they’re strict.”

“Oh, yeah. My parents aren’t.” Joan chuckled. “Yeah, mine know I won’t cause any trouble with Charles around. He’s like the police guy, but cooler. Right?”

Charles grinned. “Yep!”

Henry took a bite out of his sandwich. _Oh, man. What would Dad Reginald say if he knew Henry was hanging out with military kids? Well, they weren’t hanging out, more like eating lunch together._

Ellie said, “Anyway, you never answered my question, Henry.”

Henry swallowed the bite he’d taken out of his sandwich. He shook his head.

Charles chipped in, “I think he needs to go back home. Right?”

Henry smiled a little. Charles was… a good kid.

Ellie puffed, “Darn. Maybe next time. You’re definitely coming, though, right, Joan?”

“Yep!”

Henry listened as they talked. Man, they must have such fun lives. Ellie was the heart of the party, drawing answers to her questions from everyone and suggesting fun ideas. Charles was sometimes able to bring her down to Earth, no matter how much she “complained” about it.

A sudden thought came to Henry’s mind. Why did they give half their lunches to Charles? He already had lunch, right? Well, it didn’t look very appetizing, so that was probably why.

_Briiiiiiiing!_

Now, Henry had never been a fan of PE. It’s not that he wasn’t active. He loved exercise! But competitive sporty games, like dodgeball, weren’t always his favorite. He tended to get out first or second. He wasn’t good at throwing. He was decent at dodging, but that didn’t help when four kids teamed up on him at once.

Though, maybe things would be different here. Maybe kids wouldn’t all team up on him. That and he had Charles, so he’d have a teammate, at least. Unless they were put on separate teams. Henry’s aim was really good with his BB gun, so maybe that would help with his throwing, too?

Regardless, Henry put away his lunch box, grabbed his notebooks, and ran with Charles to the gymnasium.

PE was standard exercise. After they went into the locker room and changed into fitness clothes, something that they could wear that wouldn’t affect their normal clothes, they ran laps. Charles ran by Henry, somehow as energetic as ever and not at all failing in energy like Henry, who wasn’t used to prolonged episodes of intense exercise. It’s not like he didn’t move too much during the day, but a lot of his physical activity came from walking around the airship or city.

After the coach blew on his whistle to stop this absolute waste of time and energy, they gathered together and got to introduce themselves. _Oh no. Why?_

The girl beside Charles said cheerily, “My name is Cassandra! I’m in 6th grade and love to paint. I hope to become an artist.”

Charles grinned and said, “My name is Charles! I’m in 6th grade and love to fly R/C planes and helicopters and stuff. I want to be a pilot when I grow up.”

When a pause met his words, Henry looked around and found the coach’s expectant gaze on him. “Henry?”

The boy swallowed and tried to speak, but nothing came out and he retreated into himself. Charles chipped in, “His name’s Henry, and he’s in 6th grade, too.”

Attention was successfully diverted as they went on to the next student.

Unfortunately, they had time after introductions for more class. Push-ups and jumping jacks it was.

The coach’s final whistle couldn’t come soon enough. Henry, huffing and puffing, follow Charles, who had started sweating, but otherwise looked no worse for wear, to the boy’s locker room.

But, hey, science class was after PE. That brought his mood right up! Half of that class was also introductions, but thankfully it was only names and just whatever fun fact they had about themselves. Their teacher didn’t linger too long on Henry.

His World Language class had the most… interesting start of them.

“До́брый день. Проходи́те, сади́тесь.” This was the first thing he heard his teacher say.

Henry glanced around at the other kids, some still standing, all confused.

“Good day. Come in, sit down,” their teacher translated, her accent rather thick. “Come, now. Sit, sit. We have much to do.”

Henry sat down near the middle left, his notebook on the desk and pencil in hand.

“First, we learn alphabet.”

What kind of hieroglyphic scribbles were on the board? Henry had never seen such a thing, though the more advanced math symbols and equations sometimes looked a little like what was on the board. But he eventually understood those. Not only did she put more than twenty-six symbols up on the board, but some of the English letters she stuck under them were weird as well. Under those letters or cluster of letters, she would write a word in English and in Russian and underline a certain letter or two.

“А а” was written above “A a” with “what” below with the “a” underlined and below that and “какой” even further with the “a” underlined. “This is softer ‘a,’” Mrs. Tchaikovsky went on. “Say it with me. Ah. Wh-ah-t.”

Cautiously, some of the students parroted what she said.

“Whole class. Wh-ah-t.”

Slowly, the entire class began to participate.

“Good. Б б.” This one had two translations: “b,” like “beat” or “club,” and “p,” like “pigeon.” Why would one letter have two different ways of saying it? …well, Henry supposed there were some letters in English that did that. “C” could be pronounced like “k” or “s.”

Henry jumped as the bell rang above them.

“До свидания. Goodbye. Be good, class!” Their teacher called after the fleeing students.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [GUESS WHAT, GUYS, I HAVE A POLL!](https://forms.gle/juV7a7qbZpvtKCSh8) Every participant will earn my thanks, and every response gets me closer to writing an ending for this beautiful piece of love and work. (The embedded link here is the same as the post-post chapter notes)
> 
> So, this is based on a real school, but I don't know a lot about it because I don't even live in the same state as it. So, I mixed it a tad bit with the high school I went to (I want to a k-8 school and then high school. No junior high). Also, did you know that they're considering doing away with PE entirely and replacing it with a health class? To this day, this school has a mandatory PE class, and so does my sister's school. But studies have found that PE is actually _detrimental_ to kids' physical and psychological health. PE opens doors to bullying from more athletic students to weaker ones, gives more opportunity for bullying in locker rooms, and encourages truancy as students would rather skip class than attend PE. and it doesn't help against obesity as much as a health class that teaches you about health rather than just puts you through some physical exercise.
> 
> So, continuing off the "selective mutism" train, kids like Henry are able to talk a lot with trusted family members (like the Toppats to Henry), but rarely--if at all--with strangers or even mild acquaintances they might trust.


	9. Budding Friendship

Getting around the crowd entering the buses was a bit of tricky business. He wasn’t the tallest kid there, and everyone seemed to assume everyone near them was going to their bus. But he was eventually able to squirm his way through the crowd and out to the other side where he shot off to where the cars gathered.

He stood beneath the shadow of the school as he looked for his car. Black, white, blue, beige–many different colors and shapes inched and then drove past. Finally, red came into view. Red in a familiar shape.

Henry walked as quickly as he could past the other children waiting to be picked up. After confirming the driver was indeed Dad Reginald, Henry hopped into the backseat, holding his backpack in his arms and quickly buckling his seatbelt. “Hello, Dad Reginald, Uncle Right!”

“Good afternoon. You seem calmer than this morning,” Dad Reginald remarked.

Henry nodded. “Yeah! You’ll never guess who I met!” Without giving Dad Reginald a second to consider, Henry exclaimed, “Charles and Ellie! They go here, too!”

“Charles and Ellie?” Dad Reginald echoed.

“They were the kids we met at Sandwich City,” Henry said. “So, uh, since it’s the first day of school, none of the teachers assigned any homework. But, uh… Ellie said she, Charles, and Joan–one of their friends from school, we met at lunch–are going over to her house tonight. I know I wouldn’t be able to go tonight. But I was wondering if maybe later?”

Dad Reginald put on a weird look which could be described as concentration, but Henry wasn’t sure. Uncle Right shot Dad Reginald a look. Eventually, Dad Reginald said, “That isn’t a good idea. You may know those children a little, but neither you nor I or Right Hand Man know anything beyond what they have said to you.”

Henry hummed and thought on the words. “Well… what if you meet them? O-or meet their parents?”

“…we will look into it, see who their parents truly are,” Dad Reginald said. “But until then, no.”

Henry frowned but nodded. “Okay. But they’re really nice. You might even like them! Charles said he wanted to be a pilot when he grew up. Everyone’s banned from Ellie’s house because everyone else’s parents knows she gets into a lot of trouble. She knows how to play by her own rules. Charles doesn’t, but that’s okay.”

He wasn’t excited about school, but he couldn’t wait to go back and meet his friends. Maybe there would be a time when they could all meet up. Well, obviously. Dad Reginald and Uncle Right would see that Charles’ family was probably just as great as Charles and they could hang out!

“Absolutely not, Henry,” Dad Reginald stated as they walked to dinner together.

“What? Why?”

“Charles’ parents are third generation air force. He lives at the military base,” Dad Reginald explained. “There is absolutely no way you will be going there.”

“What about Ellie?”

“We are still talking about her. But I don’t want you associating too much with Charles,” Dad Reginald stated. “Anything you tell him, he could tell his parents, just like you told us about him. His head is full of ideas that the government gave him. He won’t be a good influence on you. If the government found out who you were, they’d attempt to use you as bait or ransom or a message. You can never trust them.”

Henry pouted. “But Charles is great! He’s fun to be around and he’s cheerful. He makes things that are scary not scary anymore, just like magic! And he always has the greatest plans. He understands what I’m trying to say, e-even if I can’t say it. He’d never do anything like that! Ellie’s great, too; she knows what’s what and she makes sure everyone else does, too.”

For just the slightest moment, Henry could see Dad Reginald hesitate. But the moment was gone so quickly he might have imagined it. “Henry, I said no. Those friends will be nothing but trouble for you.”

Henry crossed his arms. “Nothing but trouble for me or for you? They never did anything wrong and you’re judging them for their parents!”

Dad Reginald and Uncle Right both stopped and turned to him. “Henry Stickmin, don’t take that tone with me.”

Henry dug his heels into the ground. “W-well, you’re not making any sense! And, and you don’t know them! You’ve never met them! How could you say those things?”

“You don’t know them, either,” Dad Reginald crossed. “You have known them for a day, just a few hours. Their presence could become a threat to the clan.”

Henry wrinkled his nose and kept his glare. “Nuh-uh. Charles would never do that, and neither would Ellie! I’ve only known them for a day, but I only knew you for about an hour before I started trusting you both! You said that you trusted me to make good choices, and I _am_ making a good choice!”

“I just told you why befriending a military brat is not a good idea,” Dad Reginald crossed, his tone crossing much farther into a warning.

“He’s not a military brat!” Henry spat. “He’s just a kid, like me!”

“No, he’s not like you,” Dad Reginald chided. “ _He_ was raised with the grand idea that the government is supposed to be some great establishment that, if it did away with us, would make the world a grand orderly utopia. Their existence is a threat to our kind.”

“Humph. _Our kind_ ,” Henry grunted. “Well if you really think that _your kind_ is so important, maybe you should drop me off back at the orphanage with all the other unwanted little pests because _your kind_ is so great and sophisticated and–”

“Henry Stickmin,” Dad Reginald cut him off and threw his hand to point down the hall. “Go to your room, _now._ ”

Henry recoiled and lost his snarl. Oh. _Oh no._ He tried to say something, but he was cut off.

“You will go sit in your room until you learn how to behave properly.”

Henry swallowed and wrinkled his nose. “F-fine! Have fun with your real friends without me making a mess!” Henry stalked back toward his room, crossing his arms so tight he could suffocate himself, clenching his teeth so hard his breath could hardly go through them, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. Once he got to his room, it took a hit or two for the door to open.

He plopped down on his bed and curled his legs up so his knees touched his chest. He tore off his shoes and chucked them in the general direction of the closet. Henry loved the clan, he did, but he didn’t get to choose who his friends were. No one here was his age, no one understood. But then he finds someone who _does_ , some kids who knew what he was feeling and shared his interests, and suddenly he couldn’t be friends with them? Because of their parents? Well, at least when he was in the orphanage, he didn’t _have_ parents to disapprove of him or his choice in association. Though, he didn’t really associate with too many people.

Henry glanced at the other side of the room where his scooter leaned on the wall. He touched the card on a lanyard around his neck. …a ride outside. He could do a lap around the outside, clear his head.

Well, no. He was supposed to be in his room. Dad Reginald would just be even more mad and disappointed in Henry if Henry left his room without being told he could come out. Then they would yell at each other again and then he would just feel even worse. Dad Reginald was always so nice to him. He and Uncle Right were great. They believed in him when no one else did. They brought him to a new life, a better life. Dad Reginald was just being unreasonable. He would get over it, and he would see what Henry was seeing and then he would approve of it. After all, Dad Reginald got to have friends that were like him, so why couldn’t Henry? Dad Reginald and Uncle Right were best friends, and barely ever left each other’s side. They were really happy about it. So why couldn’t Henry be happy like that? Why didn’t Dad Reginald want him to be happy like that?

Bah. He was just going to mope and be miserable. That’s just what adults wanted kids to feel when they disagreed. So, Henry reached under his bed and brought out his pillowcase. Within, he found his Gameboy and started it up. It only had half battery, but that was fine. Whatever. He could still play it.

Henry lost himself to distraction, ignoring his hunger and the pain in his chest. He wiped his face off with the sleeve of his shirt and ignored his own sniffling.

Eventually, through a fog, he could hear footsteps. Henry turned off his Gameboy, stuck it under his bed, and rushed into the bathroom, where he locked the door and turned on the shower. He curled up under the sink, wrapping his arms around his folded legs. There was a knock on the bedroom door, but the noise was drowned out by the hissing of the shower.

The door opened, and footsteps entered. “Hey, little buddy?” Howie called through the door. “Ah didn’t see ya at dinner. Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah,” Henry called back.

“Alright. Thought it was a bit odd ’sall. Anyone troublin’ ya at school?”

“No.”

“Great! Well, uh, Ah’ll stop talking to ya through the shower, now.”

Henry chuckled and hiccupped. Howie was great. He was a true friend. It felt wrong lying to him, but at the same time it felt worse thinking about worrying him. It wasn’t his fault Dad Reginald was just plain unreasonable, or how Henry was so good at screwing up.

Henry gathered some of the falling water in his hands and washed off his face. He once heard one of the girls at the orphanage saying that cold water made puffy eyes go away faster, and others agreed. So, there must be some merit to that claim.

Henry got up and looked at himself in the mirror. He was back to his light, rounded, bright-eyed self. Sorta.

He started to turn off the water when he heard a knock at the door. It wasn’t at the bathroom door, thankfully. Still, Henry retracted his hand and listened.

“Howdy, Reginald,” Howie greeted.

“Hello, Howie. May I talk to Henry?”

“O’ course! Ahh, well, he’s in the shower right now, so maybe not. Hey, was he with ya at dinner? Ah didn’t see him.”

“No, he wasn’t. What did he say?”

“He said he was okay. Ahh, he didn’t really elaborate. He was in the shower, an’ Ah remembered it’s kinda awkward talkin’ to people in the shower. Do ya want me to tell him you were lookin’ for him or do ya wanna wait here ’til he gets out…?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll wait here.”

Henry let out a quiet sigh, silent beneath the running water. _Let’s make this quick._

He turned off the shower and dried off his hands. Wait. He should have brought new clothes in with him. _Stupid!_

Eventually, Henry pushed open the door and looked out into his room. Howie was partially in his closet, ruffling through the clothes and plucking out his pajamas. His hat hung on the hook beside his bed. Dad Reginald sat on Henry’s bed, looking at the bare walls around him.

When Henry left the bathroom, both pairs of eyes turned on him. Howie grinned. “Howdy, Henry!”

“Hello, Henry,” Dad Reginald greeted him.

“Hello.”

A short silence later, encouraged by Howie who looked between them with a sudden look of understanding and then awkwardly took his hat and scuttled out the door, Dad Reginald said, “Henry, we have been talking. I know that school will be good for you. But those kids you associate with aren’t good influences.” _Here we go._ “However, we do trust you and know that a good friendship is important. So, though you will not be visiting with Charles at his house, you may keep your friendship with him. Perhaps, once we get to know the Rose family better, it may be appropriate to let you visit there.”

Henry’s eyes lit up and he had to force himself to keep from grinning, though it was a difficult fight he was obviously losing. “Really?”

Dad Reginald smiled a little at that. “Yes.” His smile left him. “Now, you still were disrespectful, so you’re staying in your room until tomorrow, when you go to school.”

Henry nodded seriously. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, why are you wearing the same clothes now that you were wearing this afternoon before your shower?”

 _Dangit._ “I forgot to get my pajamas,” Henry admitted.

“Well, get dressed in clean clothes, then. Goodnight, Henry.”

“Goodnight, Dad Reginald!”

With that, Henry had the room to himself.

Still feeling a little petty, Henry ignored his closet and searched under his bed for his Gameboy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'know, when you got a kid who wants to be a pilot from a family generations-strong of government pilots, you might have a problem. I couldn't see literally any world where a friendship with Charles would be approved of by any Toppat, with perhaps the exception of Howie, though maybe even him but he'd just be quieter about it. At least Ellie doesn't have both parents in the government. Man, why can't Henry have a great friendship like Reginald and Right Hand Man? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	10. Out of Breath

Hmm… well, Dad Reginald said he couldn’t accept an offer to go to Charles’ house. But, he said nothing about before school.

“Get back here, crook!” Ellie called, a pant in her voice as she rode her bike, blue and silver and fairly new looking, as hard and fast as she could. Behind her, sitting in a two-wheeled basket-like creation attached to the back of her bike, was Charles. He held a remote tight in his hands and his fingers twitched as he pressed buttons and flicked levers. A rather large R/C helicopter flew ahead of them, its large propellers buzzing above Henry’s head.

Henry, gripping his scooter tight, rode with all the speed and giddiness of a thief on the run. Ellie’s backpack was thrown over his back with his own backpack strapped down to his scooter. He yelled, glanced up at the jungle green helicopter directly above his head. He let go of his scooter with one hand and leaned down, snatching a rock as he did so. He tossed it up, knocking it into the tapered tail of the machine as he did so.

Charles gasped and now split his attention between the helicopter and his controller, frantically trying to pull it out of a tailspin as it lagged further and further behind. Finally, it reconstituted itself and chased after Henry with a vengeance.

Henry yanked his scooter to the left, and it obeyed, throwing up rocks and dust and tearing thin-rooted plants as he left the trail and dove into rocky territory. Ellie didn’t hesitate to follow, zeroed in on her backpack like a heat-seeking missile.

Henry glanced back, seeing both Ellie and the helicopter slowly catching up. He turned back ahead and examined his landscape. It was mostly scrubby brushland and a lot of dust, but a busy parking lot leading to the high school was ahead. With a triumphant laugh, Henry turned and made a bee-line to the high school.

“He’s going to the school! Charles, stop him!” Ellie called.

“Trying!” Charles called back, watching the helicopter struggle to keep up with the scooter.

Then, Henry’s scooter stopped bouncing and he zipped through the parking lot, weaving between parked cars and students. Cars stopped and students jumped out of the way of the scooter-riding maniac and the hyper focused bike rider. But, as Henry ducked under an awning, Charles’ helicopter had to take a dive. It’s landing skids scraped the ground and the machine bounced back up. Its progress was dramatically reduced as Charles pulled it up and out of the danger zone, both trying to keep it in the air and not hitting the awning or any students.

Henry skidded around a corner and came to such a sudden stop he nearly bucked himself.

Ellie zipped past him, as did Charles and his helicopter.

Snickering, Henry manually turned his scooter around, kicked at the ground a few times to get the momentum going, and then rode back toward the middle school, activating the engine a few yards away.

Once he made it back to the bikes, he unstrapped his backpack and locked up his scooter. Unfortunately, even folded it wouldn’t fit in his locker. Throwing a glance back toward the high school, Henry lugged both backpacks over his shoulders as he made his way inside. Just as he was getting inside, he heard someone clear their throat.

Grimacing, Henry turned around to see a teacher, arms crossed, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. “Henry.”

Henry shrank back and shifted his feet.

“That’s not yours. You will be giving it back. You will wait here until she comes back,” the teacher stated.

Henry sighed and took off Ellie’s backpack.

Eventually, Ellie–panting and wheezing–came back with Charles at her side. Charles held a box with a helicopter printed on it and his backpack over his shoulders. “Hey, Henry!”

Ellie looked up. “There you are you little…” She looked up at the teacher and then Henry. A wide, sly grin spread across her features.

Henry groan-sighed and held out her backpack.

She snatched it and threw it over her shoulders. “Thank you, Mrs. Brook! I’ll handle him. We were playing a game.”

The teacher hesitantly nodded and then walked away.

“You got caught! Hah!”

Henry shook his head.

“It totally counts. Right, Charles?”

Charles shrugged. “Sorry, Henry. The bet was that you wouldn’t, uh, get caught. And you got caught.”

“Now, the reward for catching a dumb thief?”

Henry stuck out his tongue and took off his backpack. He dug through it and, after about half a minute of searching, brought out two fives.

Ellie, giggling, snatched her reward and gave half to Charles. “That’s what I’m talking about. Better luck next time, huh? What’s next? Falling asleep for a few hours? Wait, that’s for during class. Never mind.”

Henry snickered and Charles gave her a weird look.

Henry checked his watch and then showed it to them. _7:56 AM_

“Aw, really?” Ellie groaned.

Henry nodded.

“Ah, well. Let’s put our stuff away. See you at lunch!”

_…Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday…_

Henry won the chase the third day in a row. So, Ellie left for her classes a little huffy. But by lunch everything was fine.

“So,” said Charles as they waited in line for Charles’ meal. “–what are you doing for the weekend?”

Henry shrugged. “I’m going out with my uncle.”

“Ooh! Sounds fun! Well, Mom and Dad aren’t going to be home this weekend, so I’m staying the night at the Bukowski twins’ house,” Charles informed him.

“Dad’s going on a business trip,” Ellie said. “Mom’ll be staying home for _once._ Maybe she’ll care enough to talk to me? Who knows. Anyway, I think I’ll be able to convince Calvin and Konrad’s parents to let me over or something.”

Charles asked, “So, uh, what do you and your uncle usually do?”

“Learn,” Henry answered.

“Oooh! About what?”

“…tech support.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not boring!”

Ellie snorted. “Riiiiiiight. Well, good luck with your techy stuff.”

_…Friday, Saturday…_

In the two and a half months Henry had been going to the shooting range with Uncle Right, he learned not only every piece of the gun to the point where he could feasibly take it apart and put it back together again, but he could also recite the safety rules, what to do for most any problem he could possibly encounter when it came to the BB gun, and then how to shoot the smallest point in the center of a small wooden box sitting precariously atop the stand used to hold the target paper. Uncle Right had a flag set beside it on windy days so the target was moving sporadically. Henry hadn’t gotten the hang of that one, but he did hit the flag on a regular basis.

But now, they weren’t out on the shooting range. In fact, they hadn’t left the airship. “Now,” Uncle Right proclaimed as they walked. “–you are very skilled with that BB gun and ’ave the base for the skills needed to ’andle a real gun. But, not all fights will be fair or go as planned. I will teach you ’ow to defend yourself without a gun.” After a few tries with a key card, he managed to open the door to a compact gym of sorts. A few people occupied it.

Henry gasped, “Really? Are you gonna teach me how to use a knife? Punch someone’s lights out?”

“Kid, this isn’t a game,” Uncle Right chided as they stopped. “You will only be using these skills if you absolutely need to. A fight is no joke.”

Henry nodded seriously. “Yes, Uncle Right.”

“Good. Now, the first thing you need to know is ’ow to assess your opponent. Everything ’inges on your opponent. The stance you take and the style you use depends on who you’re fighting. Understand?”

“Yes, Uncle Right.”

“Do you know what that is?”

“Yes,” Henry answered with a sharp nod. “Fighting someone your own size is different than someone bigger or smaller than you. It also depends on if someone is stronger or weaker or more experienced or not.”

“Correct. Now, always utilize your advantages. Currently, you don’t ’ave the strength to knock me down. So, what you will do instead is dodge. Get into a stance.”

Henry slipped into a self-taught stance, one foot slightly in front of the other, knees bent, heels up, and muscles tense.

Uncle Right huffed. “No. You almost ’ave it, but no. Loosen up. You won’t be getting anywhere stiff as a board. ’Old your ’ands up in front of your face, not in a fist but like you’re about ready to. Right ’eel back further.”

Eventually, Henry was in a fighting stance. He felt… stronger, just standing in the position in which he was. “Is this it?”

“Yes. Now, keep your ’ands in front of you. It’s to ’elp protect your face. In a fight, if someone can ’it your eyes or nose, it won’t be as much of a fight as a beating. Now, get ready. I’m going to throw some practice swings, I need you to dodge. I won’t ’urt you, but dodge.”

Henry watched Uncle Right. Although the man swung at him, it was slower than Henry knew he could hit, and he easily dodged. The longer they sparred, or the longer Henry dodged, the more and more tired he got until finally, as he ducked another swing from Uncle Right, he stumbled over his own feet and landed flat on his back.

Henry groaned and pulled himself up to his elbow. Uncle Right stood up straight and waited for Henry to pick himself up. “We will need to work on your stamina.”

Henry nodded, wheezing and gasping too hard to speak.

“Now, we can rest and then try again in–” Uncle Right glanced at his watch. “–thirty minutes.”

 _Thirty minutes?_ Henry tried not to complain as he followed Uncle Right back to a bench and sat down, head tipped back to rest on the back and his entire body melting into the seat. Ugh, he felt like a slice of cheese that had been thrown on a hot burger. But even sitting down, he hardly felt as if he was resting.

Seconds after he plopped down in his seat, he felt a hand pat his shoulder. “Wake up, kid. Time to get moving.”

Henry let out a quiet groan, but obediently pulled himself up and followed Uncle Right back to where they were practicing.

“You won’t be building up any strength stopping when you think you’re tired.”

“Uncle Right, I _am_ tired.”

“You ’aven’t exercised like this before in your life. You will feel tired. Now, I won’t let you overexert yourself. Continue.”

 _Was this what Uncle Right did as a kid?_ Henry kept up his dodging, though his form was sloppy, as Uncle Right did not hesitate to point out, and he could barely focus on keeping himself upright. _No wonder he was so serious all the time. He probably never played games as a kid and always trained._ Of course, the thought made him sad, so he shook it off. Instead, he put as much of his willpower and strength in his actions as he could.

Finally– _finally_ –Uncle Right called for him to cease. Henry nearly collapsed on the spot, but somehow managed to stay on his shaky feet. “It should be lunch by the time you wash up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory training montage. Also, decided to reference "Intruder on a Scooter" because it's hilarious turning something that _literally killed someone_ into throwing a toy helicopter into a tailspin that didn't end in a crash.
> 
> Also, the gym's existence was inspired by "[Two and a half tophats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26208811/chapters/63784444)" which was written by a super cool writer, so you should definitely check it out. (But if you read this and don't want me posting this tidbit, tell me and I can take it down lol)
> 
> Also, also: the internet stopped working on my laptop on Thursday, which was yesterday. So I transcribed the entire chapter from my laptop to my gaming laptop, which still has internet access. I've put down a lot of the chapters of the story beforehand, but they change as I edit some scenes, correct spelling and grammar, or put in a red herring or easter egg. So, to be sure I have the latest version of the chapter ready, I do one last look-over, copy-paste from Word to AO3, change the post date, and look over the notes. I also put down notes at the very least 24 hours in advance. So, when it becomes 12:00 PM on the posting date, I can just post the chapter from almost literally anywhere. Transcribing the chapter wasn't too bad, actually. Thankfully it was only seven pages. :P
> 
> (EDIT: Computer's fixed, and so is this chapter!)


	11. Fun and Games

The irony of the situation had to be higher than any other recorded situation.

Henry did not stand in line where parents or guardians would pick up their children or charges. Instead, he was right beside Charles and Ellie. The big, yellow, elongated vehicle that sat before them shivered as students filed in. Henry faced this bus, pressed in with the crowd, a spark of fear fluttering in his heart. Still, he refused to back down. He wore his backpack and held his scooter. Beside them, Ellie took Charles by the wrist, who in turn turned back and took a hold of Henry. They made their way onto the bus and found themselves taking two seats–Charles and Ellie on one and Henry on the seat across the aisle. Some other kid was there beside Henry, but neither paid attention to the other.

Now, the bus drove. The bus would drive to a place where none of Charles’ and Ellies’ friends normally went, if at all. For this stop only held Ellie’s house within range. None of their friends were allowed at Ellie’s place and Henry was not allowed at anyone’s place than Ellie’s. Of course, the moment Henry admitted this to Ellie and Charles, both of them immediately asked the inevitable question: “ _What?_ ”

Henry shrugged. “Dad said he met with your dad, Ellie, but he never met with your parents, Charles. Sorry.”

“Aww,” said Charles, but Ellie just laughed.

“Oh, man! Just _wait_ until Joan and the Bucks hear about this!”

The typical reaction was typical. Joan snorted, putting a hand to her mouth, and the Bukowski twins looked at him as if he was crazy. Which, Calvin did ask, “Is your dad okay?”

Konrad pointed out, “Well, Henry’s kind of weird, so it’s probably a family thing.”

“Oh shut _up!_ ” Ellie puffed and punched him in the shoulder.

Now, he, Ellie, and Charles were on their way to Ellie’s house, where she promised she had a Nintendo 64 and all the space they could hope for.

The bus, partially empty, stopped at a corner with a red octangular sign.

“This is my stop!” Ellie announced and hopped to her feet. Charles and Henry were quick to follow. “Man, we’re going to have so much fun. Don’t you worry! Mom’s not home to make boring rules and Dad’s staying in his office. So, we just have to be sort of quiet. I mean, he’s okay with games on the TV, we just can’t scream into a megaphone. Oh! And as long as we don’t scream into a megaphone outside, we’re good to go anywhere. Also, if we’re home by six. That’s dinner time.”

Henry nodded. “Dad said he’d pick me up at seven.”

“Aw, sweet. Dinner won’t go to waste. Here we are!” Ellie waved her hand to one of the many look-alike houses sitting on the street. It was at a bend, so the houses looked almost as if someone had taken a line of houses and wrapped them around the street at a ninety-degree angle. Across from these houses was pure desert.

Ellie skipped to the door of one of the houses on the slightly straighter part of the street, though the street curved in both directions. She knocked heavily on the door and opened it with an, “I’m ho-ome~! So are Charles and Henry!” She dropped her backpack by the door. Charles hung his up on the rack above. Henry decided to do the same as Charles.

One of the doors farther into the two-story house opened. At the top of the stairs was a man in a fitting suit. “Good afternoon Ellie! Hello Charles! You must be Henry.” The man descended the stairs so that he was able to stand in front of them. “I’ve heard some good things about you, Henry.” He held out his hand.

Henry took it with a nervous, crooked smile. “Okay.”

The man chuckled and let go. “It’s nice to meet you. Ellie? Your mother’s not home but she will be by five-thirty. So, I want you here to greet her. Ap-ap! No buts. Now, you can play outside as long as you promise to not play in the street and come back by five-thirty.”

Ellie pouted but relented. “Okay, Dad. Sure.”

“Good. Now, if you play nice and you get here by the time your mother gets home, I’ll order pizza. How about that?”

Their eyes lit up. Ellie immediately nodded. “Okay, Dad! Promise!”

“Good to hear! Now, go play. I have a meeting in–” He checked his watch and swore. “–now!” With that, he hurried up the stairs.

Henry watched him go. As they stood in the entryway cluttered with pictures of family and friends, a few plants, a shoebox, and a coat rack, Henry asked, “What’s wrong with your mother?”

Ellie groaned. “She’s the _worst!_ First, she’s never home. Then, when she is, she pretends to be all lovey dovey. But she’s always making rules and she never does anything. She pretends to love me, but never spends any time with me and always gets me in trouble? Who does that? Dad is _way_ cooler. He’s at home a lot, though he goes out on business trips sometimes, and even though he doesn’t do or let me do _everything_ I want, he’s pretty chill. And sometimes we go on father-daughter trips. When he’s on a business trip and I’m home alone, he makes sure to call me in the morning and have one of his friends check up on me in the afternoon or let me sleep over at Charles’ place.”

She then asked, “What about your parents? You never talk about them.”

Henry chuckled. _Yep. And there it was._ “Well, my parents are busy a lot. But Dad and Uncle still make time for me. On the weekends, Uncle Right takes me out for self-defense. I, uh, never really spend time with Mom.” _And he had a very intense feeling she would dislike being called “Mom.” It helped he called her “Mom Carol” once._ Someone _got up on the wrong side of the bed. All the time._

“‘Uncle Right?’ Wow, did his parents hate him or something?”

 _Crap. It was supposed to be Hoyt._ Henry pouted. “What? That’s a real name!”

Ellie chuckled. “Riiiiiight. I’m guessing your mom is like mine?”

Henry shook his head. “No, she’s there. But I live with a huge family. So, uh… what do you want to do?”

Ellie hummed and looked around. “Well… we could race. Charles and I have bikes out in the back porch. We could also race helicopters. Charles has one and I do, too. So, you can borrow mine, if you want. Oh! We can also ride off into the desert and look for treasure!”

Henry gasped. “Is there treasure out in the desert?”

“Only one way to find out!” Ellie darted further into the house.

“Meet us outside!” Charles called as he ran after her.

Henry saluted them and walked out the front door, scooter over his shoulder. Once he was off the porch, he opened his scooter, allowing the back to land on the ground and the front to sit up at a ninety-degree angle with a _click!_

A few moments later, a gate opened and two kids on two bikes–one light blue and the other jungle green–rolled out onto the sidewalk. Ellie called, “Ready to go?”

Henry hopped onto his scooter and gave her the thumbs up.

“Great! Follow me!” Ellie readjusted the straps on her shiny lavender helmet, looked ahead, and pushed down the peddles of her bike so hard she pushed herself off the seat. Henry revved his engine–making a rather “cute,” which it wasn’t actually cute no matter what anyone else said, growling noise–and took off after her. Charles, hurrying to snap his scarlet helmet on, was close to her side.

Off into the desert they rode.

Henry caught up to her fairly quickly. “So, how do you know where the treasure is if you’re riding so quickly?”

“I don’t! We’ve cleared out quite a bit of territory. So just watch for anything shiny on the way there!” Ellie instructed.

Henry quickly found himself glad to have a scooter rather than a bike. They rode for a good ten minutes at top speed and neither showed too much exhaustion.

Finally, Ellie stopped peddling, allowing her bike to slow until finally she hit the brakes. Charles and Henry followed suit.

“Alright,” Ellie puffed, kicking the kickstand into place, and hopping off her bike. She hung her helmet on the handlebars. “Treasure hunting, commence!”

Henry’s scooter didn’t have a kickstand. Hmm, he should probably invest in one. He looked at Ellie’s parked bike and then his scooter, which he gently leaned on the bike on the opposite side of the kickstand.

Charles hung his helmet on his bike’s handlebars. “Did you see anything, Henry?”

Henry shook his head and strolled up to them.

Ellie hummed. “Well… let’s start looking. Hey, Henry! You’re the newest member of our crew. Why don’t you lead?”

Henry thought for a moment and then nodded. “Okay!”

“Got a plan?” Ellie prompted.

Henry nodded. “So–”

The late afternoon sun glared down on the trio. They spread out across the desert, a bundle of sticks in their arms. After searching an area, they stuck a stick into the scrubby dirt and kept going. Henry found the glint of metal and ran up to it. It… was a can. Henry pouted and stabbed a stick into the ground next to it. He started to go, but hesitated. It could be garbage…

…or it could be a marker for treasure!

Henry called, “I found a can!”

Ellie and Charles looked up. Ellie raised an eyebrow. “A can?”

“Yeah!”

She looked at Charles who shrugged. “Well, uh… maybe it’s a… an expensive can?”

Henry went on, “Keep looking!”

“Gotcha, Captain.”

“Sure thing, Henry!”

Henry dropped his dwindling pile of sticks and stuck one into the dirt. He managed to dig the stick an inch or so before flinging the dirt out of the small hole he was digging.

…this would take a while.

The boy stopped and sat on his heels. Digging would be way too slow. He glanced at the can. Well… a shovel was just a metal spade on a stick, right? So, if he took the sturdiest stick he had and then crushed the can on top of it, he’d have a shovel! Genius!

So, Henry did just that. He dug his heel into the farthest end of the can, both missing the stick handle and flattening the tip of the can. Unfortunately, it wasn’t sharp as the round butt end of the can was not as easy to bend. So, he placed a rock on it and stamped his foot into it. Voilà! A can-shovel!

Henry was able to dig a good few inches into the ground before realizing something terrible. He could stamp the can into a shovel shape easily. Unfortunately, that also meant the can could be bent out of shape easily.

Henry shrugged and stabbed the can-shovel into the ground and then picked up his sticks. If there was any buried treasure, he might come back later. Or he might bury his own treasure there! …nah, that was stupid. Why would he part with his treasure?

Later, as Henry dug one of his last sticks into the ground, he glanced at his watch. _5:15 PM_ stared back at him. He looked up and called, “Ellie!”

Ellie stood up like a prairie dog, quite far away from him. He barely heard her “What?” in response.

Henry held up the arm with his watch on it and then pointed to his watch with his other hand.

“Ooooooh! Okay!” She turned and yelled something else to Charles, who was even farther away.

When they met up at their bikes, Ellie puffed, “I could barely hear you! We need to get something to hear each other.”

Charles brightened. “Headphones! Yeah, we could use headsets, right?”

Ellie leveled her hand. “Eeeh… good idea, Charles, but we’d need to attach them to something. And we can’t exactly lug a PS2 with us, never mind three. Where would we even get three?”

A memory of a policeman leaning into his shoulder and talking into a box popped into Henry’s head. “What about walkie-talkies?”

Ellie hummed and narrowed her eyes. “That… sounds like a great idea! What do you think, Charles?”

Charles thought for a moment. “Well, I really liked the headset idea, but this plan is good, too!”

Henry smirked. Ellie hopped onto her bike. “Plan set! Next time we go out here, all three of us will have walkie talkies.” With that, she popped on her helmet and rode back in the direction of her house. Henry and Charles followed. Again, she raced at full speed. Now that Henry looked, the heat was causing them to sweat more than the exercise and to pant. Henry felt so hot he was almost cold. Not to mention how his throat burned each time he even thought about talking. They really should have brought water bottles with them.

As they approached Ellie’s house, they found a plain blue car pulling into the driveway. Ellie grimaced but quickly did away with the look. “Okay. Henry, you can fold up your scooter and set it next to your backpack inside while Charles and I put away our bikes.”

Henry gave her a firm nod.

The woman that stepped out of the car was… well, not what Henry expected. She was a well-built woman with flaming red hair that barely reached her ears. Her clothes were quite informal; just a plain purple shirt and dark pants that reached her ankles where tennis shoes covered her feet.

Henry stopped and got off his scooter.

The woman stopped and smiled at him. “Oh! Hello there, little one. Frank told me Ellie was having a new friend over. Are you him?”

Henry nodded.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Henry. You are just the cutest thing! Come on; it’s hot outside and you look like you’ve been running around in the desert.” Her smile fell. “Ellie didn’t drag you and Charles out again, did she?”

Henry shook his head.

She sighed. “Did she ask, and got you and Charles to agree with her?”

Henry hesitantly nodded.

She shook her head. “That girl. You could’ve been bitten by a snake or stung by a scorpion. There are some bad people out there. You could have been abducted or hurt! And Frank let her go, didn’t he?” She huffed and then looked at Henry. As if realizing she was still talking to–or at by this point–an eleven-year-old, she smiled. “Sorry, Henry. Ellie is… a fun girl. But remember: if you really don’t want to do something, tell her. She sometimes forgets the safety that I taught her, or that not everyone is like her. Oh! I’m talking too much again, come on. Let’s get out of this heat.”

Henry followed her into her house. He folded his scooter as he went and leaned it against the wall once inside.

“Frank! Ellie!” Mrs. Rose called. “I’m home! So is Henry!”

Ellie, her face and the hair near it damp, poked her head out of the kitchen. She and Charles made their way into the entrance hall with a few bottles of water. “Hey, Mom!” Ellie said with false cheer.

Mrs. Rose grinned. “Hello, Ellie! How has your day been?”

“Fun!” Ellie replied and handed a water bottle to Henry, who immediately started drinking it. “Charles, Henry, and I got to meet up after school and ride around on our bikes. I mean, obviously. Because they’re here.”

Mr. Rose descended from the upstairs. “Hey, my Autumn Rose!” he called. As soon as he landed, Mrs. Rose met him with a kiss. Ellie stuck her tongue out in a fake gag. Henry couldn’t help but make a similar expression. Ugh, lovey dovey adults! Or teens. People always acted weird around their girlfriends or boyfriends. Like how Howie and his new girlfriend were _so attached_ and the one time Howie and his girlfriend dropped Henry off at school, they all but ignored everything except each other.

Mr. Rose looked down at the kids and then his wife. “It’s been an intense few hours for these ones, I’m sure. Why don’t we sit down and play a board game?”

Henry perked up. Ellie, however, wrinkled her nose. When her father looked at her, she lost the look.

Mrs. Rose clapped her hands together. “That sounds fun! What do you kids think?”

Henry nodded and glanced at Charles and Ellie. Charles said, “Sure!”

Ellie, after a little consideration, said, “Okay. Henry’s parents are picking him up at seven.”

Mr. Rose nodded. “Right. So, we can’t unpack ‘The Gathering,’ unfortunately.”

Henry tipped his head.

Ellie said, “It’s a card game with monsters and magic and stuff.”

Mrs. Rose proposed, “Well, how about a mystery game?”

_“13 Dead End Drive.”_

Henry hadn’t played too many board games. There were board games at the orphanage, but they were always very old and most of them required more than one person to play. So, Henry was not fluent in the proper ways to handle a game as a guest. Or even how to play at all. But Mrs. Rose anticipated Henry’s ill knowledge of the game and its mechanics and, as Mr. Rose ordered a pizza for them, she read through the rules with Henry. The more she read, the more interested Henry became. So, it was his goal to bring his pawn to the door space when his pawn’s portrait was showing? He could “kill off” pawns from other people with traps? But… he didn’t necessarily need to use a trap card when in his hand or when he grabbed it from the pile. He could put his own pawn on a trap and draw the trap card but pretend it was the wrong one. So, lying, huh? He could get away with that.

Once they set up the board, Henry waited for everyone else to choose their pawns before picking his. Technically, there was no advantage nor disadvantage to having a certain pawn, but Smothers the Butler and Dusty the Maid were his favorites.

As Mr. Rose shuffled the trap cards, the door to their house rang. “I’ll get that,” Mrs. Rose promised as she got to her feet.

As they arranged all the cards and pawns where they were supposed to go, Mrs. Rose came back carrying two large, squat cardboard boxes with one box half the size on top. A bag with a large, filled bottle hung from her arm. Henry immediately got up to help with Charles behind. Ellie, after being given a look by her father, got up as well.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Rose hummed as Henry took the boxes from her. Ellie cleared off a space for their dinner. Charles grabbed a stack of plates from one of the cabinets. It was revealed that the two large boxes held pizzas–one cheese and one pepperoni. The smaller box, they were delighted to find, had a chocolate steeped dessert. Mrs. Rose pulled down the bag holding the bottle to reveal a two-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper.

 _“Welp,”_ Henry thought as he piled on slices of the typical party food and poured a drink for himself, _“–Ellie’s house is officially a place of worship.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes. Pizza. The food all children somehow know through instinct, like most children's games.
> 
> Also, we get introduced to Ellie's parents! Yay!
> 
> Also, Also: Day 4 of no internet on my computer, and I barely transcribed this 11.5 page chapter in time oh my good golly gumdrops. lol
> 
> (EDIT: Computer's fixed and so is this chapter!)


	12. Horses

The doorbell rang. Henry, who was gathering up all the game pieces, looked back. He checked his watch. _6:59 PM_

Mrs. Rose pushed herself up. “I’ll get it.”

Charles passed the last of the trap cards to Mr. Rose. “Is that your dad?”

Henry shrugged. It could be Dad Reginald. Or he might be busy, and Howie could come by. Oldmin could be running errands in the area.

“Hello… there?” Mrs. Rose’s greeting upturned at the end in a question.

“Howdy!”

Henry got up and approached the door.

“Ah’m Howie. Ah just came by ta pick up Henry. His parents are mighty busy tonight.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to see you here, uh, Howie. As good a boy as you are, I haven’t met you and I would rather not give Henry away to anyone else.”

“Oh. Oh, Ah completely understand, really Ah do. Henry’s well-loved, and you’re lookin’ out for him.”

“Er–I’m sorry to interrupt, uh, Howie, but what’s that you’re wearing?”

“Ma hat? Oh! Like it? Closest thing Ah could get to a cowboy hat.”

“Well, it’s, uh, lovely.”

Henry got to the door, picked up his things, and looked up at Howie, who was smiling and tipping his brown top hat to her. Howie spotted him and perked up. “Howdy, Henry! Have fun at Ellie’s house?”

Henry grinned and nodded.

Mrs. Rose looked down. “You recognize Howie?” After getting a confirmatory nod, she hesitated and looked back. “Darling, do you know a Howie?”

“Yeah!” Mr. Rose called back, his voice slightly muffled by distance. “Mr. Smith said he might be sending Howie. He’s from the local high school. Cousin or babysitter or something.”

“Okay!” Mrs. Rose reluctantly turned back to them. “Well, I guess that settles that. You have a good night, Henry.”

Henry walked to Howie’s side and gave her a small wave.

Another car pulled into the driveway; a quaint powder blue SUV. Henry stuck closer to Howie’s other side. However, the person who stepped out of the car was…. Charles? No, Charles’ _father_. Man, they looked _so alike!_ Save for their eyes; Charles’ were a light green and Mr. Calvin’s were silver. Howie smiled and gave him a little wave. “Howdy! I’m chancin’ a guess at you bein’ Charles’ father?”

“Indeed I am!” Mr. Calvin announced. “And the little one by your side must be Henry, then?”

Howie nodded. “Yep. Gettin’ popular already, eh, li’l buddy?”

Henry didn’t respond, just hid behind Howie.

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you…?”

“Howie. Howie Johnson. I’m Henry’s older cousin.”

“Howie. A nice name. So, you go to the local highschool?”

“Indeed Ah do!”

“Do you need a ride? I don’t see a car around here,” Mr. Calvin offered.

Howie shook his head. “Nah. My ride’s parked a little farther back. Was visitin’ a friend’s place. It was nice meetin’ ya, Mr. Calvin.”

“You, too. Say,” Mr. Calvin glanced at Howie’s hat. “I think I recognize your name from somewhere. Where did you say you lived?”

“Las Vegas,” Howie said. “Our parents don’t like it much there, though. That’s why we go here. What about you? Henry’s been tellin’ us ya live on a base?”

“Yes. We live on the military base on the other side of Las Vegas,” he said. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around Howie, Henry. Stay out of trouble, you two. It’ll get dark soon!”

Howie, Henry holding onto his shirt, called after him, “You, too, sir! Greet Charles for me, will ya?”

With that, the two were walking down the street and Mrs. Rose opened the door for Mr. Calvin. Once the door was shut and the boys were further down the road, Howie said, “ _That’s_ why Reginald didn’t want ya over at her house. Did you see that?”

“Your hat?”

“If Mr. Rose didn’t know me, she would’ve assumed Ah was a Toppat. Technically, she’d be right. In fact, Mr. Calvin knew who Ah was. That ain’t a good thing, little buddy.”

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed. “But… people not in the Toppats wear top hats, too, sometimes.”

“She’s been in the military for a while. Ah think they’ve learned ta pick up on things. Oooor she was jus’ cautious since she wasn’t told Ah’d pick you up. _He’s_ bound to tell her.”

Henry looked ahead. “Well… you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Henry, most everythin’ Ah’ve been teachin’ ya is illegal or in some way immoral.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t _know_ that.”

“Heh! This is why Ah like ya, little buddy! Didja eat dinner?”

“We had pizza!”

“Ooooh! The dinner of the gods, Ah see. You’re a lucky duck.”

“Yeah! Why don’t we have pizza at home?”

“’cause pizzas are ‘obnoxiously large’ or some bull like that.”

“Aw.”

“Yeah, totally unfair!”

They had been walking a while before finally reaching the edge of town, and then beyond that where the pod was.

Henry collapsed in his seat and watched as Howie typed in a few buttons. “Howie?”

Howie pressed one last button and sat down. “Yeah, Henry?”

“Do you ever get to stay over at your friends’ houses?”

“Well, Ah bunk with you. Does that count? Haha, but really, yeah. Sometimes. Not as much now that Ah’m almost a full-fledged Toppat. But still, sometimes. Ah don’t have friends with family in the government, though.”

Henry stuck out his tongue. “I didn’t know that! They’re good people!”

Howie held up his hands. “Whoa, there, little buddy. Ah get it, Ah’m not implyin’ otherwise. You’re a good kid, Ah know any one a’ yer friends are good, too. They gotta be ta have yer approval, right?”

Henry grinned and nodded. “Ellie and Charles are wonderful! I kinda like Joan, Calvin, and Konrad, but we only meet at lunch. So, I don’t know if they’re really friends or not.”

Howie nodded, a sage expression befalling him. “Ah understand that, Ah do. Same thing with me. Got a few people at the table Ah don’t really know, but we eat lunch together ’cause we got nowhere else ta eat. Not that Ah’m achin’ for a place, a’ course! Ya don’t even know what wonders ma charmin’ accent can do. Ya know how many people ask me if Ah’ve been in a rodeo? Or ridin’ a horse? Ah mean, Ah’ve ridden a lot of horses and been in more than one rodeo, but that’s beside the point. Ah never ask them if they’ve seen an alien or how many speedin’ tickets they got.” _What weird things to ask._

“What’s it like?”

“The rodeo or the horse?”

“Both!”

“Hah! Well, horses are great. Gotta be careful, ’cause if ya spook one, it can mess ya up pretty bad. But they’re generally gentle giants.”

Henry followed Howie as the teen talked about his experience with horses and the rodeo. All the lights and the noises and excitement of a rodeo; all the fun and calm of a simple horseback ride down an obscure trail.

“The ranch Ah lived in had a horse; beautiful appaloosa mare. She was jus’ the sweetest thing. Used to spend all day ridin’ her down the trail, helpin’ with her care. She was ma show horse an’ ma best friend. The lady of the house wanted me ta take her purebred, award-winnin’, pompous American Saddlebred worth more than Ah’ll ever be out to competitions, but that stallion was way too stubborn an’ proud fer my taste.”

Henry tipped his head. “What happened to them?”

“Nothin’,” Howie said, his voice losing its cheer. “What happened ta me. Man a’ the house died and left Appleblouse an’ a few of things ta me in his will. Lady of the house didn’t like that one bit. Ah was just an orphan they found huddled in their stable one rainy night. She got me kicked out right quick and told me if she ever saw me again, she’d call the police. Wasn’t too long aft’r that Mr. Rich found me.”

Henry frowned. “That’s… really mean.”

Howie scoffed. “That’s one word fer it.” He stopped by the door to their room and let him in. “Hey, little buddy?”

Henry set his backpack and scooter down by the closet. “Yeah?”

“Do ya know how ya got to the orphanage?” Howie prompted.

Henry plopped down on his bed and stared at his lap. “N… not really. They told me I was two when they got me. Dad Reginald, Uncle Right, and Ms. Carol found me there, when Mason dared me to steal something from Uncle Right. I almost got it, but he found out.”

Howie’s eyebrows raised. “You tried ta steal from Right Hand Man?”

Henry nodded.

Howie whistled. “You’ve gotta be the craziest, ballsiest kid Ah’ve ever met.”

Henry grinned.

Uncle Right and Henry continued the self-defense lesson from last weekend, again focusing on dodging. Gleefully, Henry found he lasted a little longer before he absolutely could not continue. When Henry visited their room to clean up and change clothes, he did not see Howie. However, he did see a nice bed he’d forgotten to make that was perfectly fit for resting in. After a hot shower, of course.

Henry had never been the superstitious type, the kind to believe one small task would cause an even larger one to happen. Of course, happy little coincidences like throwing away a piece of trash on the way to a crowded bench and finding someone leaving it were nice. But the universe liked to be balanced. So, for each happy little coincidence there had to be an annoying little inconvenience. Or, of course, the absolute end of his world.

As soon as Henry’s head hit the pillow, the world lurched out from under him and shoes battered the ground outside. Henry yelped and dug his fingers into the sheets to keep himself stable.

Henry took a deep breath and got to his feet. He set an ear to the door. There were voices down the corridors and the opening and shutting of doors. He could feel panic flutter inside of him like a trapped bird, but he put it down. He couldn’t panic now. He was going to be okay.

The boy swallowed and shut his eyes. The voices and footsteps had faded. Yet, the halls were not silent. Far away, he could hear the sounds of distress and action. What action, he didn’t know. Had people boarded the airship? Were they under attack? Was that what was happening?

Henry sucked in his breath, his eyes going wide. Oh no. That’s _exactly_ what was happening! Wasn’t it? Okay, okay, Henry, breathe. Think. If the airship was being boarded, there would already be bad guys there because they would look in the bedrooms first, right?

_hiss_

Henry’s breath caught in his throat upon hearing one of the doors open further down the hall.

Okay, well, there would be voices. Because the bad guys would be talking to each other after raiding the room, right?

“ _Nothing here!_ ”

Henry shut his eyes tight. So, he didn’t recognize that voice. Well, it was far away, and he could hardly even understand the words. It was masculine and there were plenty of men on the airship!

_Hiissss … “Это ясно!_ _”_

…their ship had been boarded by bad guys.

Henry darted to the end of the bedroom. Okay, so, he could hide under the bed, but they’d find him there. The closet? No, too obvious. Ugh, there weren’t enough hiding–the gun! He had his BB gun! They didn’t _know_ it was a BB gun, right?

Henry took the locked box from his closet, unearthed the weapon he knew enough about to dissect and put back together, reloaded the weapon, and turned off the safety.

_Hissss!_

The door next to his room opened.

Henry’s heart rate shot up. Okay, okay, calm down, Henry. You can do this. You can do this! It’s probably only one guy! Or a half dozen. But this is _your_ room! Right! It’s your territory, they’re at the disadvantage!

Then, he felt something… _odd._ Not bad odd, but just… weird. It wasn’t a voice or conscious thought, but a sudden calm tugged at his racing heart as if someone he trusted stood beside him, not about to carry him away from the danger, nor to hold his hand, but stick with him through it. He almost turned to make sure Dad Reginald wasn’t behind him but shook off the thought. Time stood still and he could breathe again. He had a choice before him. He could stand his ground and fight, he could go into the hall and meet his aggressor head-on, or he could hide and strike only if necessary.

Make a decision, Henry.

Henry gripped his gun tight and faced the door. W-well, there was nowhere to hide, really. Besides, he could take on whoever this was! He could do it! He might not be holding a _real_ gun, but it would still at the very least hurt. The world was moving, and the steps were getting closer.

_Hisss!_

Henry took no more than half a second to get a look at his aggressor before he shot.

_Pop!_

He received an irritated grunt in return.

Standing before him was a man not only way bigger than Henry, but covered in a thick, dark gray, fuzzy uniform made to withstand a harsh cold that made him fill the doorway. What looked to be a yellow watchtower surrounded by an upside-down scarlet-and-white triangle was printed on his hat and the chest of his jacket.

“Hmph. Children,” the man scoffed. He snatched away Henry’s weapon and then grabbed him by the back of the neck. Henry tried to scream, but the hefty glove over his mouth stopped the noise. With that, the man elbowed the button on Henry’s bedroom door and swept outside, still suffocating Henry both by blocking his breathing and keeping him held down so tightly he couldn’t escape. He couldn’t escape, much less breathe! He couldn’t breathe, agk, no, no, no! He couldn’t… he couldn’t escape… he…

No, standing and fighting was stupid. Henry was too young and under armed for combat!

Henry’s eyes flicked to his bed. His eyes narrowed and he dove under it. Pushing his treasure to the very corner, Henry cocked his gun and lay in wait beneath the bed. The world was moving, and the steps were getting closer.

…

_Hisss!_

The door to his room opened. Heavy boots ran over his floor. The bathroom door opened. Henry’s closet door opened, as did Howie’s. From around the sheet that draped over his bed to hide him, he could see a knee on the ground and Howie’s sheet pulled back. Henry’s mouth went dry. Heart pounding in his ears, his very bones shivering, Henry put his finger on the trigger and pointed at the dark blue boots.

The sheet on Henry’s bed was whipped back. The man’s head appeared on the floor, his dark brown eyes finding Henry instantly.

_Pop!_

The man _screamed._ He jumped back, screaming and swearing and fumbling with his rifle, which he now only held with one hand. Henry squirmed out from under his bed. He looked back only long enough to shut the door. But in that fraction of a second, he saw the man clad in a heavy, gray, fur-lined uniform stamped with a red and yellow symbol on the chest and hat holding a hand over his eye.

Henry darted down the corridor, gripping his gun tight. He barely remembered to cock it.

He skidded to a halt in front of the door to the cafeteria. Henry set his ear to the door and then inwardly cursed himself. Why would he be going into the cafeteria? That place was _way_ too open! So, Henry continued running. At the end of the hall was the Warehouse. There were plenty of places to hide. Besides, the other end of the warehouse led into the Bridge.

When he got to the door to the Warehouse, Henry picked up his lanyard and swiped his card.

_Bzzz!_

_TOO FAST. SWIPE AGAIN._

_Bzzz!_

_TOO SLOW. SWIPE AGAIN._

_Bzzz!_

_BAD READ. SWIPE AGAIN._

_Bzzz!_

_BAD READ. SWIPE AGAIN._

_Bzzz!_

_TOO FAST. SWIPE AGAIN._

Henry swore to himself. Of all the times to have card trouble!

_Beep._

_ACCEPTED. THANK YOU._

Henry hopped through and slammed the door shut again. Without a glance back, Henry ran down the ramp and into the Warehouse. He hesitated and looked around. The crane was still, empty of its usual driver. Boxes and crates littered the edges, as did a colossal chunk of coal.

Henry had a choice.

Henry could hide behind the coal or run into the Bridge. He could hide in a crate or wait in the crane. Henry’s eyes darted around his surroundings before he rushed to one of the larger crates. “TANK IN A BOX” it read. Despite the danger, Henry grinned. He flicked the safety on in his gun and pushed the lid up on the box. The sheer weight of it gave him trouble, but he didn’t need to open it that wide. Once he had about a foot of airspace, he snatched his gun and wormed under the lid of the crate, which he shut.

Blind in the darkness, Henry waved his free hand. He could feel the wood behind him and to his left, but before him was smooth metal. Henry was eventually able to feel his way to the top of the tank. He struggled with the hatch before falling inside. He felt around the control, running his fingers over the buttons and screens until he finally hit one that did something.

The inside of the white tank glowed, and it rumbled to life. Henry blinked rapidly in reaction to the painful start. He looked around, the hatch still open. Well, he didn’t want to accidentally shoot something. So, he found the “power button” and the tank shut off again. It probably had a more sophisticated name than “power button” but whatever it was, he didn’t know.

As Henry’s breathing got under control, he listened. He had nothing to fear, being inside a crate. Even if they somehow knew which crate his was in, Henry was in a tank. He could just close the hatch and wait for someone else to come and help him.

Henry stopped breathing upon hearing a set of footsteps. Weirdly, it was just one and the footsteps were _fast._ The person was going at a dead sprint from the Living Quarters to… the Bridge. Oh no. Whoever it was could take control of the airship and run them into the ground or something! This was no time for hiding. This was time for _action._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm the bold action MAAAAAAAAN!" ~Charles, the Bold Action Man
> 
> Man, those card readers are finicky. Anyway, have another raid! This time involving some heavy-clad dudes speaking Russian. Oh, and a tank in a box!
> 
> I know the past few chapters have had some errors (a repeated line here, a misspelled word there) but once I fix my computer, I'll stop friggin' transcribing the chapters and transfer them. Until then, please be patient with me. lol ~~Please, God, in time for the Russian dialogue~~
> 
> (EDIT: Computer's fixed and so is this chapter!)


	13. Airspace

Henry climbed out of the tank and pushed against the top of the crate. Once he’d successfully squirmed out, Henry landed messily into an open crate of hay. Sure, he landed in a disorganized heap, but it was a _silent_ disorganized heap.

Henry crawled out of the crate and, holding his BB gun in an iron grip, speed-walked through the Warehouse, careful to make as little noise as possible. He disengaged the safety and crept up to the door. Someone was grumbling and cursing inside.

Henry held out his card. He hesitated as the weight of the situation ran into him. The man he shot had been at point blank, surprised to see the eleven-year-old with a BB gun hiding under his bed. Henry had the advantage of home ground and a closed space. But the Bridge was big and open. W-well… well he couldn’t let the airship be taken down! Chief Terrence taught him a little bit about piloting, so even if that person screwed something up, he could probably fix it! Or at least procrastinate its destruction long enough for Terrence or Dad Reginald or Uncle Right to fix it.

Henry swiped his card.

_Beep._

_ACCEPTED. THANK YOU._

The door opened, letting bright noon light, made blinding by the drifting snow, burn his eyes. Henry pointed his gun at the figure hunched over the controls he could barely see due to the lighting change­. “Back off! Я прикончу тебя!” he yelled.

The figure jumped and spun around, a pistol in his hands. “You–Henry!”

Henry’s eyes went wide. Dad Reginald, his suit scuffed and his top hat missing, stood above the controls. “D-Dad?”

“Get in and stay quiet!” Dad Reginald barked and hopped into the pilot’s seat. “Hold on!”

Henry ran to the corner and pushed up against it as hard as he could. He could _feel_ his world tip to the side.

“Did you see anyone?” Dad Reginald asked, not once looking away from the controls.

“A bad guy was in my room,” Henry said. “He was searching all the rooms. I shot him in the eye, I think. He was wearing some really heavy clothes and spoke in Russian.”

Dad Reginald scowled. “They’re in the ship. I’ll kill the man myself.”

“He might still be in my room,” Henry offered, braced against the wall. “Uncle Right said if you hit someone in the eye, they can’t fight anymore.”

“Right’s a brilliant man,” Dad Reginald agreed.

The door opened. Henry pointed his gun at the door and yelled, “Don’t move! Я прикончу тебя!”

But instead of seeing a heavy-coated bad guy, Henry stared straight down the barrel of a handgun held by Uncle Right. Henry dropped his weapon and held his hands up.

“ _’Enry?!_ ” Uncle Right spun around, lowering his weapon. “Reg!”

“He almost shot me, too,” Dad Reginald stated. He looked up. Below them was nothing but ocean.

“But _why_ is ’e ’ere? Why are you ’ere, kid?!”

“There was a bad guy in my room,” Henry explained, picking up his weapon. “I shot him and ran away. I was hiding in the Warehouse and heard Dad Reginald go into the Bridge, but I didn’t know it was him, so I followed him. I know a little bit about the ship. I think? Chief Terrence showed it to me once.”

Uncle Right walked up to stand beside Dad Reginald. There, Henry could see he held an extra hat. He clutched the back of Dad Reginald’s seat and leaned down as if to look at something in the panel. But instead, he whispered something so quietly Henry could hardly even tell he was communicating, much less know what he was saying. He set Dad Reginald’s stormy gray hat back upon his head. Dad Reginald did not respond.

Henry looked to the door again. “…was that a bad thing?”

Dad Reginald sighed. “No, Henry. You defended yourself. But if I _was_ one of those Wall guards, I would have killed you. So, you should not have followed me in here.”

Uncle Right turned to Henry. “Lower your weapon before you ’urt someone, kid.”

Henry put his finger on the trigger guard, activated the safety, and lowered the muzzle.

The door flew open again.

Then, there were way more than three people in the room.

Henry saw Chief Terrence Suave first and foremost, though he noticed other people come in. Chestershire, Geoffrey, Burt Curtis, and Carol among them. Dad Reginald stood up straight, abandoning the pilot’s seat, stared down the chief.

“What were you _thinking?!_ ” Chief Terrence spat, stalking up to Reginald so they were hardly a foot apart. “This–” He gestured at nothing in particular. “–wasn’t part of the plan!”

“Then what was it?” Dad Reginald shot back. “Your _blitzkrieg_ tactics almost got us all killed! In fact, this entire plan was an absolute _disaster!_ Why are we even attacking the _Wall_ of all places?!”

“The Wall is the highest security prison,” he pointed out with a roll of his eyes. “They’re guarding more than just _people_ , they have to be.”

“Are you saying,” Dad Reginald said, venom dripping from his near hoarse words, “–you _had_ no plan?”

The temperature of the room dropped.

“Of course I did,” Chief Terrence puffed, somehow unflinching as he stared down Dad Reginald. “We had almost gotten through their ranks. If _you_ hadn’t forced a retreat–”

“–saved your life, you mean?” Dad Reginald spat. “You would have let good members of the Clan die or become locked in the highest security prison on Earth for _what?_ The hell of it?” The gathered crowd, ruffled and injured and high strung from the raid gone wrong, bristled at the words.

Henry could hear Reginald’s voice through the wall behind him. Somewhere nearby, Sven had pressed a large button on the base of a mic just out of their sight.

“No, I–”

But Dad Reginald was not done. “Not only could we have lost some of our members to your _recklessness_ , but the ship, too! There was a Wall guard patrolling the living quarters!”

 _This_ seemed to jar the man. But Chief Terrence lost the shock quickly. He started to speak, but Dad Reginald turned to the crewmembers gathered. “This man would have us forfeit our lives, for what? He would see the Toppat name dragged through the mud and lost to history because of his recklessness! He is a _danger_ to the Clan! He forfeited his honor, his dignity, to show off in raids that make no sense. Raids that have claimed lives! In fact, just this raid, we lost Cool Joe, Mr. Rich–how many more of us are we willing to sacrifice? Are we, as proud, dignified Toppats, going to let this man lead us to our doom?”

“No!” the word rumbled through the crowd, through the entire airship, bouncing off metal walls and filling empty halls.

“Then I say we denounce Terrence Suave! Who’s with me?” Dad Reginald yelled. Agreement growled through them, reluctant at first but growing in volume with more support.

“Reginald,” Chief Terrence Suave said, his voice loud to catch the attention of the growing revolt. “Is this _really_ how you’re going to usurp me? Stage a coup, take advantage of our crew while they’re still catching their breath?”

The mutterings grew quieter.

Dad Reginald matched his gaze. “No.” Henry could see the man tense, see his breathing change. Still, he stood up to Chief Terrence. “I am not _usurping_ you. You have no right to claim that title!”

“ _I_ earned my way to _this seat_ ,” Chief Terrence announced. “I was the trusted second to our previous chief, I took over upon his death. I trusted you as my second, my deputy, my right hand, because I thought you were worthy. But _clearly_ , you’re more interested in your own ambitions.”

Now the Toppats were uncertain. Now they stared between their chief and deputy.

Chief Terrence stated, “I hereby revoke your claim as my deputy. Now you, as my third, throw this failed usurper off our ship and take his place.”

Uncle Right stared straight back. “I would rather die as Reginald’s right hand than live as _yours._ ”

Chief Terrence blinked and then squared his shoulders. “Fine, then. You will share his fate. Hanz, Sledge, take these two men to the Brig.”

Sledge, a rather beefy man, his sore hand still holding the sledgehammer over his shoulder, announced, “Reginald has led us better than you ever could!”

Hanz, leaning on the man next to him as he couldn’t put weight down on his left foot, spat, “His plans have never tried to kill us!”

“Yeah!” Howie’s voice sprang from the crowd. “He wasn’t the one ta lead our people ta their capture! Ah’d be dead, just like Mr. Rich, if he didn’t pull us outta there!”

Another man near the front, his squat hat a few shades lighter than navy blue skewed and left eye blinded by crusted blood from a gash in his face, yelled, “I agree with Reginald! Throw this imposter off the ship!”

Dad Reginald squared his shoulders and stared Terrence Suave straight in the eyes. “Let the Denouncement Ceremony begin, then.”

Chief Terrence stared right back. “Reginald.”

Henry’s interest piqued upon seeing something gold and shiny attempt to stay hidden from sight. But nothing shiny and interesting escaped Henry’s attention, especially if it was supposed to be hidden. Chief Terrence’s hand slowly slipped from beneath his jacket. Indeed, what was in his hand was gold. It was a golden _gun._

“I trusted you as my second. And you–”

_Pop!_

“Agk!” Chief Terrence’s hand whipped up toward himself so he could hold it, his fingers covering a red mark on the back of his hand. His golden gun clacked to the floor.

Henry cocked his gun upon instinct and looked around, finding _many_ eyes on him. He tried to speak, but no words came out. So, he pointed to the gun on the floor which, just a moment ago, would have been used to harm Dad Reginald.

Chief Terrence glanced at Henry to spit a curse, only to find Uncle Right’s fist connect with his eye. The chief stumbled back, off balance and now down his gun.

Pandemonium, pure and loud, _exploded._

Henry flattened himself to the wall with his gun, safety in place, close to his chest. The golden gun vanished, and the former chief was swept off his feet as the crowd charged, pushing him to the leftmost wall of the bridge. Someone pressed a button, opening the door that led onto a short deck with a long plank at the end. Frosty wind swept into the Bridge.

Terrence stumbled as he was shoved onto the deck. Dad Reginald and Uncle Right walked through the crowd, standing before the disgraced former chief. Dad Reginald, the hat upon his head and his ruffled clothes set aglow in a thin shaft of sunlight peeking through the blanket of clouds, stated, “You are a disgrace and are no longer fit to be our leader. I’ll take that.” He stepped forward and swiped the hat off the man’s head. Then, he stepped back, arms behind his back, and simply stated, “Jump.”

Terrence stood upon the deck, and then the plank as Uncle Right stalked toward him. Terrence’s eyes flicked around, desperately searching for some way out. But there was no way out, no secret passage or trick that would pull him forward.

The wet, icy wind blew heavy and hard. Terrence lurched forward. His foot slipped off the wood.

Down, down, down far to the icy stone of the sheer mountain cliff below he fell.

Uncle Right and Dad Reginald returned to the airship, shutting the door safely behind themselves.

Without another sentence uttered, Uncle Right set Terrence’s hat upon Dad Reginald’s head, right on top of Dad Reginald’s own hat. Dad Reginald smiled at him and then the crowd. “Terrence Suave is no longer our chief. I, Reginald Copperbottom, will lead the Air Division of the Toppats. We are going to make the Toppat Clan a household name for people to fear and be in awe!”

The crowd cheered, nerves frayed and emotions high, but their fury and fear and grief successfully taken out on the object of their misery. Burt’s voice called over the intercom. “The Denouncement Ceremony has been completed. Terrence Suave is no longer the Chief.”

Dad Reginald– _Chief_ Reginald–raised his voice to the crowd, his smile gone. “Now, we need to sweep the ship! Check for any stragglers that have infiltrated this ship. All injured go to the infirmary! Henry claimed to have found a Wall guard in the Living Quarters! We must not let any of them escape. All of them must be taken to the brig and dealt with later. Derbert, Floyd: keep guard in the infirmary, make sure no one is left behind on the way there. Geoffrey, Carol, Slice: sweep the Living Quarters. Matthew, Kohaul, Hatchman: take the Warehouse…”

Gradually, the room emptied as more and more people were sent off to jobs or made their way to the infirmary. Soon enough, it was Burt, Chestershire, Oldmin, Howie, Dad Reginald, and Uncle Right in the bridge. Henry still stuck to the corner. Chestershire, Oldmin, and Burt stayed at their stations.

Dad Reginald called, “Henry.”

Henry, calmer now that the insanity subsided, walked up to them. “Yes, Dad Reginald?”

“You were quite brave,” Dad Reginald said. “You have really showed your gusto when we needed it. You have proven to us that you can more than handle yourself. Your cool head, keen eye, and loyalty are unquestionable. Because of this, we trust that you will make the right decisions, and right decisions for others when they need you. You and Howie will continue going to your school. On weeknights, not the weekend, you can ask to visit or stay the night at your friends’ houses. And, when the time comes, you have more than proven your worthiness and will pick out your own hat and join us as a full recruit, Henry Stickmin.”

Henry let out a squeak, cleared his throat, and then said in an even less even tone, “Thank you!”

“Now, Right Hand Man and I have some adjustments we need to make. Until we are completely certain the danger has passed, I do not want to see either of you alone. Stay together.”

“Yes, sir!” said Howie, followed quickly by Henry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terrence S was An Imposter.  
> 1 Imposter remains
> 
> So, Terrence was the chief before Reginald. He was super incompetent, like frustratingly so. One of the worse leaders in Toppat Clan history. Reginald took over when Terrence was overthrown. So, in this story's canon, Henry's near kidnapping was the catalyst. I think in the canon universe, it would be more something like the last straw. It just happened _so much_ that, when Reginald had to scramble to try and clean up another mess and ended up nearly losing some valuable members (RHM included), he snaps and turns the ship against Terrence. In the games, being the Chief isn't often something people strove to be. In fact, there are points in the game (such as with former chief T.R.N.K.) that people want to prolong their chief's leadership as long as they could. Sven, in the Special BROvert Ops path, rants to Henry about becoming chief and all the paperwork and extra stuff he'd had to do and the headaches he's had to deal with. In the TCW ending, it's implied that with Reginald and Right Hand Man dead and Henry denounced, Ellie becomes the new chief even though she only spent about ten minutes in the ship. So they pretty much look at the person who wants to be/technically eligible for it and go "Yay! So, when's the announcement ceremony?" This could also mean that trying to take down a leader is taboo. Terrence claiming Reginald was ambitious and was attempting to usurp him was claiming a few buzzwords that triggered these thoughts of "Terrence is our chief" and "Reginald's just using us for his own ambition" and the like. But Reginald's use of pride and safety combats it very heavily. But both Reginald and Terrence were posturing, playing chicken to see who would step down first. It's _Henry's_ action and Terrence's attempt at a low blow that gives RHM the permission necessary to lay him out flat. When RHM attacks the chief, quite suddenly this is a thing and Reginald's encouragement bolsters the spirit and courage required to take down a horrible chief and give the deputy a chance. In canon, without Henry, I could imagine Terrence attempting to land a shot on Reginald but RHM or the crowd stepping in.
> 
> Oh, and, glad those marksmanship lessons and the ability to spot a shiny three leagues away has gone to good use!


	14. Spooky

It had been months, and the raids that were pulled off were quick and careful, but very well worth the trouble. Dad Reginald had gotten a little paranoid after Henry told him about the break-in at his room, so he commissioned a panic-bracelet for him; a bracelet that had a button Henry could press if he was in trouble so that Dad Reginald or Uncle Right could find him. Howie was much quieter through the months after the loss of his father figure. In fact, there were times Henry had walked in on the teenager sitting in his bed, crying. Howie stopped quickly enough and waved off Henry’s attempts at comforting him. In September, he became old enough to help out in raids and heists. In fact, at eighteen, he _could_ get his own room. However, Henry was “unused to having a room alone” and Howie figured he would stay for Henry’s benefit. Such an excuse could be seen through more easily than a storefront window, but it was good enough for Henry because it was true; Henry had _always_ lived with other people.

Now it was October, a month since Howie’s birthday and three months into the school year. Dad Reginald and Uncle Right still had no trust in Charles’ parents, but as long as Howie was there or went there to pick him up, staying afterschool was no chip on anyone’s shoulder. But with October came Halloween, one of Henry’s favorites. After all, he could go around trying to scare people without getting in trouble! …until they caught him stealing candy or accidentally breaking into someone’s house on his scooter while fleeing the cops. But that was _only_ once.

Henry, Ellie, and Charles sat in a circle, cross-legged, in one of the stalls in the girl’s bathroom. Charles had immediately protested the notion of being in a girl’s bathroom, but Ellie confirmed that no one would look for a couple of boys in here and Henry agreed. So here they were, in a bathroom, sitting and scheming.

“So then, I attach bat wings to a helicopter. Turn it into a bat-copter!” Ellie said, showing off a crude diagram of a helicopter, bat wings, and then bat wings on the helicopter in her art book.

Henry hummed. “Who’ll fly?”

“Charles, of course,” Ellie said. “He’s the best. Right?”

Charles smiled. “Thanks! Yeah, I am the best! …uh, what do I need to do?”

“About that.” Ellie flipped her artbook around, drew up another page, and then showed it to them. Another drawing, this one of the Batcopter, hovered, muzzle pointing down, chasing a few stick figures. A couple of bags were on the ground. There was a bush near the kids with two eyes on it. “BATCOPTER” was written near, and then attached by an arrow to, the Batcopter. “KIDS” was near the kids. “CANDY” was pointing to the bags. “HENRY” was pointed at the bush. “Now, Henry, I need you to hide and search for the best pickings. Kids with the most bags filled with the most candy in darker or emptier streets. Charles, when I give you the signal, chase them down with the Batcopter. I’ll hide all the lights except for the front to give them a real scare! Then, when they drop their candy, I’ll swoop in on my bike, grab it, and book it!”

Charles chipped in, “But they worked for that candy, Ellie. You can’t just, you know, steal it.”

Ellie waved her hand with a _Pssht._ “Nah, I’m not stealing. I’m monopolizing the candy market. You see, when most lights are off, the pickings get slim. People start to go home. But! If we take all the candy and put it in one place and turn on a light, we’ll be able to trade off all the candy we don’t want for the candy that everyone else has. And that’s just the candy we want to trade. We can be _rolling_ if we bag them up and put a price tag on it. We can do it by the bundle, by the count, by the bag, whatever.”

Charles frowned. “I… still don’t want to steal anything.”

Henry shook his head. “We’ll give it back. They just need to pay for it first. Like a finder’s fee or, uh… a ticket. Cops give out tickets to everyone, right? That makes it legal.”

Charles shook his head. “Police give out tickets to people who are breaking the rules. Like parking in bad places or speeding.”

Ellie stuck her tongue out. “ _Fine_. Okay, so… what else could we do? Oh! I know that look! You got a new plan, Henry?”

Henry nodded. “So–”

Henry, twigs stuck in his hair and plastered to his clothes, hid on the side of the road. Grass covered whatever sticks did not and paint covered his face. He lay flat against the rest of the grass, binoculars in his hands and surveying the streets. A walkie-talkie hid beneath his chin.

Suddenly, two groups of kids walked down the street. Henry dipped his head into his binoculars. The first group was about four, about twelve to thirteen, if Henry had to guess. A wizard, two lions, and a ball of yarn with cats walked as well as a small pet dressed like a horse. Creeping up behind them were two bigger kids, high school perhaps. A vampire and a zombie lagged behind the kids. While the kids had rather full bags, the vampire and zombie did not. In fact, they didn’t have bags at all.

Henry pressed a button on his walkie talkie with his elbow and whispered, “Vampire and zombie, high school.”

“Rodger,” said Ellie. “Moving in?”

They could hear Charles’ muffled excitement through their communication devices. “Aw, yeah!” Then, Henry heard a quiet _vvvrrrrrr_ beside him. A helicopter, its jungle green panel and black blades invisible in the night, rushed into the street. Large bat wings fluttered uselessly at its side. A single bright white light glowed from the very tip of its nose.

A wide grin on his face, Henry watched as the Batcopter swooped down. The vampire and zombie yelled and ducked out of the way of the Batcopter’s glare. The cluster of children screamed and bolted back to safety. A few dozen pieces of candy sprinkled the ground. The Batcopter turned and swooped in lower, it’s buzzing blades cutting through the air inches from the vampire’s nose. The boy yelled and tried to duck out of the way but get closer to the fallen candy at the same time. But the Batcopter’s wrath would not be so easily satiated.

Finally, as the Batcopter dive-bombed them a third time and nearly blinded the vampire with its light, the teens fled. Ellie flew out of the darkness on her bike, stopping only long enough to gather up the fallen pieces, and rushed back into the dark. The Batcopter flew back in the direction from which it came.

Ellie’s cackle came through the walkie talkie. “Score! Let’s move!”

Henry got to his feet and, staying low to the ground, darted across the street. He had to climb a fence to get into the end of a cul-de-sac, but quickly flattened himself to the ground to make himself invisible in the night. He heard someone in the bushes behind him. _Charles, probably._ Still, he shot a nonchalant look back, moving as little as possible. He couldn’t see anything, not even the helicopter’s light. Henry frowned but held up his binoculars and surveyed the street.

Eventually, another group of kids–a scarecrow, a sphynx, a gargoyle, and a cat with a little pet hippocampus–walked from door to door. Henry watched them go. A slight hurt brought him down, but it mattered not. Henry, Charles, and Ellie were going to come out on top by the end of the night!

This group had no difficulties and kept going. The adult dressed as a satyr walking with them probably helped.

After the third group who they spied went off without a hitch, Ellie said, “It’s getting late. Uuuuugh. Well, we can still sell some candy. Henry? Out the front? We can double back.”

“Okay.” Henry got up, put away his binoculars, and hopped the fence. Soon enough, he found Ellie the Witch and Charles the Pilot walking behind him. He slowed down so that they could catch up. But, as they rounded the corner where Henry had stuck their supplies and scooter–two different locations but relatively close together–they found only the scooter. Henry picked up his beloved vehicle and straightened it out. “What?”

Ellie’s gaze snapped up. A few teens–the vampire and the zombie–walked down the street, snickering to each other, bikes rolling beside them. The vampire held Henry’s backpack over his shoulder. “Those guys are _goners._ ”

Henry hopped onto his scooter. “Charles, come on!”

Ellie jumped onto her bike and Charles went with Henry, clutching the back of his dirty, grassy suit. Henry revved the engine of his scooter and off they went.

The two teens turned around upon hearing Henry’s scooter. They immediately got onto their own bikes and raced off. But the teens weren’t following the sidewalk. Soon, they were in the dirt and they were flying through the desert.

“Uh, guys?” Charles asked.

Ellie, laser focused on Henry’s backpack, puffed, “Yeah?”

“I know we just started and all, but, uh, we’re getting pretty far away.”

Henry glanced back. Oh. Yeah, he could hardly see the houses, especially now that most of the lights were dark. Henry glared ahead at the two teens, who said something they couldn’t hear to each other. Then, they split up, racing in opposite directions from one another. “Ellie!” Henry pointed to the left one who was closer to her. He had Henry’s backpack. Ellie put a hand to her forehead and zoomed after him while Henry and Charles stuck close behind the first. Henry muttered, “Batcopter.”

Charles blinked. “Would that work?”

“Shine it in his eyes.”

“Er, okay.” Charles let Henry go with one hand and raised his helicopter high, letting the landing skids rest on his open, flat palm. He slowly let go of Henry with the other and activated the controller. The helicopter jumped out of Charles’ hand. But, just as the helicopter gained speed and altitude, the vampire squeezed the brakes on his bike. Henry yelped and jerked his scooter to the side to avoid the collision, which didn’t happen as the teen let go and raced with all his might. But Charles lost his balance and fell off the back of the scooter. The remote left his hand and the helicopter jerked and spiraled as one of the sticks on the remote got pressed down.

“Charles!” Henry yelled and immediately spun the scooter around. He let go of the vehicle and ran up to his friend. “A-are you okay?”

The boy groaned and shakily pulled himself up, with quite a bit of help from Henry. Dirt streaked his outfit and tangled his messy auburn hair. A few cuts tore at his clothes where he rolled across some sharper rocks. But worst of all, Henry noticed, was the blood that trickled down his forehead. When Charles went to touch his bruised forehead, he froze upon seeing more of the stuff on his hand–mostly his right hand as his left was not cut, but not free of abrasion.

Ellie’s voice came out of the receiver, huffing and wheezing so hard it was barely audible, “Got him!”

Henry pulled out his walkie talkie. “Ellie! Man down!”

“WHAT?! I’m coming! Sit tight!”

Charles whimpered and winced as he tried to move his hand. Henry took a hold of his wrist. “Stop.”

“Sorry. Ahhhh. Ow.” Charles set his other hand on his head. “I should have worn a helmet.”

“Yeah,” Henry muttered.

_“Won’t we need our helmets?” Charles asked._

_Henry shook his head. “Only Ellie will.”_

_Ellie strapped on his helmet. “Yeah! You two are walking._ I’m _the one on the bike.”_

“You’re not by the Batcopter!” Ellie’s voice came from the receiver.

Henry looked up. Charles’ helicopter, it’s single light on, spiraled far away. Henry searched for the remote and grabbed it. “H-how do I fly it?”

Charles pointed to the left button. “That will turn the helicopter left or right. That other one makes it go forward or back. There’s a dial over there, but don’t touch it. I-it will take a second to pick up speed, so be a little patient. That button on the bottom activates all the lights so don’t touch it. It’s low on battery.”

With Charles’ guidance, Henry maneuvered the swaying helicopter back to them. “Why is it…?”

“The bat wings. They’re not aerodynamic or symmetrical and they’re heavy.”

“How did you do it?”

Charles shrugged, wincing. “Practice.”

Then, the helicopter’s light dimmed, and it descended, slowly at first but rapidly picking up speed. Even when Henry tried pulling it up, the helicopter stopped responding.

“It’s dead, Henry. Errg.”

Henry set the remote next to the scooter and went back to him. “P-please don’t touch your head.”

Charles nodded and then grimaced.

Ellie, backpack over her shoulders and Batcopter in her arms, stopped her bike roughly a foot away from them and jumped off. It fell onto its side. “Charlie! What happened?”

Charles explained the situation while Henry took his backpack back sans wings, set the dark Batcopter back in its case, and righted their fallen vehicles.

Ellie growled and glared back. “Well the next time that vampire shows his ugly face, he won’t have an ugly face to show!”

Henry turned to her. “What about the zombie?”

Ellie smirked. “I grabbed him by the backpack, knocked my bike into his, and sent him flying. Took our stuff and his bike and left before he could get back up. I set his bike near where I found Charles’ helicopter flying. I might have, uh, broken something of yours. Hopefully not. Let’s get Charles back home.”

Henry held out his hand and pulled him up. Wobbly on his feet, the boy accepted Henry’s help to his scooter. Henry stood behind him and held onto the handlebars, standing on his tip-toes to look over Charles’ shoulder. “You lead?”

“Sure. Keep up, but don’t you dare drop him.”

Eventually, their wheels hit asphalt and the scooter and bike stopped.

Ellie ran to the door and, when Henry and Charles got close, opened it. “Dad! We’re home! But Charles got hurt!”

Inside, way more chairs than one or two moved. Henry tensed and shied back as quite a few members of the Halloween party at the Rose household left their places.

Mrs. Rose darted into the hallway. “Oh, no. You are just covered in–okay, let’s get to the bathroom and wash all this off. You’re going to be just fine, honey.” She took Charles off their hands and guided him further into the house.

“Ellie Rose!” Mr. Rose called as Ellie started to follow her mom.

She flinched and looked up at him. “Yeah, Dad?”

Mr. Rose stopped in front of the two kids, arms crossed. “What happened?”

Ellie looked at Henry and then up at her father, though she couldn’t hold his gaze for long. “Someone stole Henry’s stuff, so we followed them.” She described their chase into the desert, and then how the vampire knocked Henry off balance and threw Charles.

Mr. Rose said, “And will Charles give me the same answer?”

Ellie nodded.

“Henry, I’ll call your father. I’m sorry, but Ellie’s going to be going to her room and _not coming back out._ Understand?”

Ellie mumbled something and then ran up the stairs when her father stopped looking at her.

Henry shrunk into himself and nodded.

“Hey, why don’t you come with me and get cleaned up while we’re waiting for Charles, huh?”

The boy reluctantly nodded and followed Mr. Rose, who called, “We’ve got it under control!” to the guests.

Henry was allowed to wash off his face and throw away some grass and broken twigs that were in his hair, though he knew it was ultimately futile and he would be spending a lot of time cleaning it in the shower. Still, the face paint he had on took more than enough of his time and concentration.

Mr. Rose gave him some water and crackers.

“By the way, Henry,” Mr. Rose said. “–did you get any candy?”

Henry nodded.

“May I have Ellie’s, please?”

Henry hesitated and then looked back at his backpack. Eventually, he nodded and went to his backpack. He pulled out three of the “discount candy” bags they made of the really cheap stuff and dumped it into a bag along with a few good bars. He zipped up his backpack and brought the candy bag back to Mr. Rose.

“Thank you, Henry. Are you okay? Anything hurt?”

Henry shook his head.

“Okay. Well, I called your father and he said he’ll be here soon. If you want something, don’t be afraid to ask.” Mr. Rose smiled at him and Henry returned the look, albeit weak and very dialed down. With that, Mr. Rose left, avoiding the stairs. Mr. and Mrs. Rose were both going to be there, weren’t they? Or would they talk first? Poor Ellie. It was Henry’s fault for leaving his backpack sitting out, and then for telling Charles to ride with him. Henry sat down by the door with his back to the wall.

Eventually, Mrs. Rose walked with Charles to the front room and with a, “Good night, you, two,” she went upstairs, Mr. Rose quickly following.

Charles, his hand bandaged and bandages wrapped around his forehead, sat beside him. He was clean and without his jacket, but once again smiling. “Hey, Henry!”

“Hey.”

Charles looked to his hand and then Henry. “It’s not as bad as it looks, by the way. I’ll probably take these off in a few days.” He grimaced. “Um… what happened to Ellie?”

“She got sent to her room,” Henry said.

“Oh. And Mr. Rose called your dad, right?”

“Yeah.”

Charles shrugged. “Well, they’re never really that hard on her. Well, her dad isn’t. She’ll probably be grounded for a few days.” He frowned. “But if it’s her _mom_ … We’ll be lucky to even _see_ her for a month.”

“They’re both up there.”

“Ah.” Charles looked at the front door, where their things were piled. “Thanks for saving my helicopter, by the way. I kinda really like it.”

Henry gave it a worried look. “Is it okay?”

“Let me see.” Charles got to his feet and picked up the box. He sat down next to Henry and pulled out the plastic holder with the aircraft inside. Charles sucked in his breath and brought out the creation. One of the skids was broken. One of the double set of blades were bent, as were the stabilizers on the tail. Henry barely heard him whisper, “Oh no…”

Henry bit his lip. “We can fix it, right?”

Charles ran his fingers over the scratched head cover. “Yeah. I mean, definitely! Yeah, I’ll find a way to fix it! Just… it’s a really expensive helicopter, so it might be a little while.”

“Can’t you ask your parents for help?”

“Well, no,” Charles admitted. “They said that if I got the expensive one, that they would buy it, but I would have to replace the missing or broken parts. I can! It just might take a while.”

Henry thought for a moment. “W-well… I helped break your helicopter. Can I help?”

“Oh! Well, sure. I mean, you don’t _have_ to. It wasn’t your fault, but you can.” Charles stumbled over his own words before quieting.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way,” Henry promised.

Charles cradled the helicopter a little longer, gently peeling away some tape left from when the bat wings were on it. Now that Henry thought about it, they couldn’t see the bat wings in the dark. Why did they need them, again?

A flash of light outside gained Henry’s attention. He glanced out the window, finding a red car on the street.

Henry turned to Charles. “May I take it?”

Charles started and looked up. “What? I… well, I would kind of like to have it. But, uh…”

“I’ll bring it back, Charles. I promise. I think I know a person or two who can help.”

Charles looked down at the machine. Eventually, he set the helicopter in its case and slid it inside the container with more care than Henry thought possible. “Thanks, Henry.”

“You’re welcome. Um, sorry again.” Henry grabbed his backpack and scooter and slipped outside. He just caught Dad Reginald halfway up the driveway. “Hello.”

“Hello, Henry. What happened?”

Henry passed him, pausing only long enough to see him start walking again before getting into the car. “Charles got hurt and we came back. Ugh, I was _so dumb!_ If I hadn’t left my backpack pretty much out in the open, those stupid teens wouldn’t have taken my backpack. Or if I hadn’t told Charles to come with me, o-or if I was just better with my scooter–ugh.” Henry looked at the helicopter case in his lap.

Dad Reginald pulled into the street, his car slow as he had to stop constantly for children in dark or colorful costumes. “What happened, Henry?”

Henry let out a sigh and recapped their adventure, starting with their _epic spooky plan_ to when said plan went awry. “Now Charles is scraped up and so is his helicopter. He’s okay, though. Mrs. Rose cleaned him up and his parents are going to pick him up. But Ellie’s grounded, probably forever. She did kick the zombie one off his bike.”

“Hmm. And you know where you went wrong?”

“Yes.”

“What would you do differently?”

Henry thought for a moment. “Well… first I would’ve hidden my backpack better. But if they still grabbed the backpack, I… I don’t know. What went wrong is that when Charles let go of me to throw his helicopter, the vampire stopped his bike, forcing me to try and dodge, and that threw us off balance. If Charles didn’t take out his helicopter and he stayed holding on, he probably wouldn’t have fallen off.”

“Why did you send Ellie alone after the one that had stolen your backpack? Why didn’t all three of you follow, or Ellie go after the second alone?”

“I knew Ellie would kick his butt,” Henry answered plainly. “And she did. She got him off balance and he fell off his bike. She grabbed our stuff and rode away. She would have done the same thing to the vampire, but he didn’t have our stuff. Don’t get me wrong, Charles and I were going to stop him. I just knew Ellie could do it with one hand tied behind her back. In the original plan, I wanted Charles to ram his helicopter into the guy’s head or flash him. Just distract him when I bumped into him. That would knock him off balance. Then he would fall.”

“Is his helicopter what you have there?”

Henry nodded. “Yeah. His parents bought it for him, but since I broke it, I’m going to fix it.”

Dad Reginald nodded. “Good.”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course! We may be thieves, but it is important to honor your word and own up to your mistakes. Your plan failed, and when it did, one of your friends got hurt. That is the reality of a dangerous plan. Now, how are you going to fix that helicopter?”

Henry looked down at the box. “Well, if I get new parts for it, I’ll have to take out the bad parts and replace them myself. Which, I could definitely do that. But I’m not good with electronics. I can’t get him a new helicopter; this one is his and it’s special to him. I could try to find someone who _is_ good with technology and ask them for help. …Dad Reginald? Mr. Krieghaus is pretty good with technology. Can I ask him?”

“You could, tomorrow,” Dad Reginald answered. “If he is too busy to help you?”

Henry wrinkled his nose. “Well… um… I could see if Oldmin is going out to town again and go with him. Then I could go to the electronics store while he’s shopping and get this fixed. Dad Reginald? Do you know anyone who could fix a helicopter?”

“Yes, in fact, I do. Dr. Brown might be able to help you.”

The surprises didn’t cease, of course. Henry was woken up in the middle of the night as his door opened. Howie, who hadn’t been in the airship all day, stumbled inside and immediately flopped down on his bed. After about two minutes, he raised his head and gasped for air, as if just realizing he couldn’t breathe in a pillow. Howie tossed his shoes and rolled over, hitting the wall as he did so. Something had spilled all over his chest and head where it dribbled onto his face, smearing his covers and pillow in whatever somewhat clear liquid had hit him.

“Are you okay?” Henry tried.

“Yeah, li’l buddy,” he mumbled, words incredibly slurred. He waved his hand. “Jus’ go back ta sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Add bat wings for maximum spookage.
> 
> Also, Ellie would totally steal a bike just to drop it off in the middle of nowhere to teach someone a lesson. Hope that kid got back home relatively okay. And by relatively, I mean alive and probably without broken bones. Yeah.
> 
> Also, also, I dug out two giant helicopters from my closet after moving and a cluster of small ones. So I based Charles' copter one of mine. God, I forgot I had them. Too bad the controller doesn't work for the big boys. I'm going to need to buy another one. :( But, hey, they charge and nothing looks bent or broken, and they're currently perched on my window/desk looking awesome. All the tiny ones are broken and just kinda decorate my closet. I wonder if I could learn to _build_ one. Now _THAT_ would be awesome! Funnily enough, I actually contemplated going to an aviation tech school in high school, and still dominate every flight level in any game I play. Maybe I should've looked more closely into aviation, eh?


	15. Copter

_Thomas Chipz and Curly Brown._ Henry might have met these people once. After all, he had been on the airship for about half a year. As he followed Dad Reginald and Uncle Right, he met a lot of the crew. Mr. Chipz… he normally roamed the southern parts of the ship; the Cargo Bay, Engine, and Records Library. Curly Brown was probably going to be in the Boardroom? Records?

Henry, distracted, bumped into someone the next afternoon. He gasped and stepped back, wincing upon hearing something hit the floor and papers scatter. The young man he’d run into swore and snatched the clipboard from the ground. “Just what I need,” the man grumbled to himself. Henry hurried to pick up the papers and offer them back, messy and out of order, but with minimal crinkling. “Thought I couldn’t handle another problem but here we are.”

“I’m sorry, can I help?”

The man stood up straight as he stuck the papers back into their place. He readjusted the bright blue top hat clinging to his shiny blonde hair. The poor clipboard was pulled back hard enough to break. No wonder the papers scattered as soon as it left his hands. “No, go back to playing,” the man mumbled. He walked off, tapping the papers neatly together. “ _Vilken röra._ ”

After nearly an hour of wandering the airship, he saw the Toppat member with a slightly shorter navy-blue top hat and suit. He checked over one of the computers in Records. Thick, light brown pin curls escaped from under his hat.

Henry, holding the box with the now rather heavy helicopter in one hand, sighed in relief and approached him. “Hello?”

Dr. Brown turned around. “Huh? Oh, hello, Henry.” He turned back to what he was doing. “Is there something you needed?”

“Mhm. Can you fix a toy helicopter?”

“A toy helicopter?” the man echoed and turned around.

“Yeah. It belongs to my friend, Charles. We went out to do a dumb scare thing in Halloween and it got broken after falling out of the sky. It’s my fault, and I want to fix it, but I don’t know how.”

Dr. Brown hummed. “Do you know what, exactly, broke?”

Henry nodded and set the box down. “It’s mainly just the outside, I think?” He pulled the broken helicopter from its case and held it up. “I haven’t turned it on, so I don’t know.”

“Your friend has good taste. I think I’ve seen this before,” Dr. Brown commented, looking over the machine without touching it. “Yes, my nephew has been wanting one of these for a while. It _would_ be interesting to see what they put in it before I get one for him. Yes, I will help you.”

“Um, Dr. Brown? This helicopter is _really_ special to him,” Henry said, lowering the helicopter a little. “I broke it enough.”

“I won’t break it,” Dr. Brown said with a flippant wave of his hand. “I will simply peek at its wiring and whatever they put into the receiving board and the mainframe. Yes, yes, I _can_ fix it. In fact, I think I can do better than fix it. What do you say? Let me have this thing for, oh, a week? Then I will come find you at the week’s end and deliver it back. What do you say?”

Henry bit the inside of his cheek and looked over the helicopter. “…okay. But Charles liked the dark green shell. He wants to be a pilot when he grows up.”

Dr. Brown raised an eyebrow. “A pilot, huh? …okay. You don’t happen to have the controller, do you?”

Henry tipped his head to the box where the case was partially sticking out. “It’s in there.”

“Good. Just put the helicopter away and I will deal with it later. First, I need to finish this.” Dr. Brown turned back to the computer. Henry gently put the helicopter away, shut the box, and set it next to the man who could, hopefully, fix it.

“Hey, Henry?” Charles asked. They sat, alone, in the cafeteria. The morning bell had not yet rung, and Ellie was going to get to school minutes before the morning bell.

 _“My stupid mom said I wasn’t even allowed to come here early,”_ Ellie had grumbled to them at lunch.

“Yeah?” asked Henry.

“Do you, uh… have my helicopter?”

Henry nodded and then hesitated. “Yes, but not with me. I know someone who’s really smart and says he knows some things about machines. He’ll fix it up. He just says he needs a week with it.”

“A _week?_ ” Charles echoed. “It was just a few things on the outside; bent blades and broken skids. That is something I could fix in an hour or two.”

“Well, he said he wanted look at the inside of it, make sure everything was good. He doesn’t want to replace all the broken outside parts and give it back, only for it to just not start or something.”

Charles frowned, but nodded. “Okay. That’s fair. Thanks, Henry.”

A quiet _“You’re welcome”_ started in his mind but died in his throat. “I broke it. It’s the least I can do. …hey, did you bring your Gameboy with you?”

Of everything that was going wrong that weekend–everything from Henry shooting a man in the eye to keep from getting killed to Charles getting injured and his helicopter broken in a dumb fight–screwing up in PE was not one of them! Self-defense lessons with Uncle Right gave him strength and stamina he didn’t previously possess, and he was able to run a few laps around the gym without losing his breath. How did Charles do it? Was he taking self-defense lessons, too? Also, his Russian language class just got more interesting. They made an enemy of the Wall, and it would be a good thing to know what they were saying.

* * * * *

Henry almost immediately broke through the lining of the chute he attempted to sneak through and landed on the ground _hard._ Henry groaned and pulled himself up. The growl of the engine and churning of cogs and gears was what he heard first. Two giant windows gave him a view of the air outside. Henry rubbed his head and looked around. Before him was a gap with a sign leading to “RECORDS.” That was a little far to jump. However, behind him, was a door leading to “CELLS” and “VAULT.”

Henry perked up. He’d never gone to the _vault_ before!

He opened the door–requiring little else than a few button pushes–and walked inside. The first thing he noticed was how the entire interior was red, but also a little cramped. Along both walls were three doors, each holding a small “window” with bars instead of glass. At the end of the short hall was a fancy looking door.

Henry heard the quiet noise of a shuffle.

He turned to the first cell. Henry approached it. “Hello?”

…

“Hey, is someone in there?”

“Huh?” the voice croaked. “The hell? Are you a kid? …no, you are just hallucination. ужасной ложью.”

Henry grabbed onto the lip of the window and attempted to pull himself up. He could _just_ see the metal interior of the cell, but nothing else, not even the top of someone’s head. “I’m real, I promise. Who are you?”

“…no one.”

Henry let go of the cell’s window. “What are you doing in here?”

“Your friends don’t know what to do with me,” the man grumbled. “I can’t fight back. Believe me, I tried. But they have taken everything from me. Tell me, little hallucination. What time is it?”

“Uh… twelve thirty.”

“No, the day.”

“Oh, it’s November 4th. It’s close to Thanksgiving. Do you celebrate Thanksgiving?”

“No, but I hear of it.” A slight turn of interest sparked in the man’s voice. “Almost Thanksgiving, huh?” He sighed, and the excitement was gone. “I should be dead. I want death.”

“Why?” Henry’s eyes went wide. Why would anyone want to be dead?

“They keep me here until I wither away into nothing. Until I break, like they want me to.”

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed. “That… that can’t be true. They’d never do that. There has to be another reason.”

The man sighed. “You are good kid. Just go back to your friends.”

Henry shook his head. “No. You’re lonely. You sound it.”

This elicited a broken chuckle from the man. “You are good child. Tell me, Гудчайлд, why are you here?”

“I live here,” Henry said. “When Dad, Uncle, and Carol adopted me. They live here, too.”

“…what a terrible life you have before you, Гудчайлд.”

Henry gasped. “It’s not terrible! I get to live with my family, and they accept me. And we get to make our own rules!”

“Your own rules. They do not abide by any rules, Гудчайлд. You must know this. But I wish to argue no longer, little hallucination.”

“Okay, then. What _do_ you want to talk about?”

“…”

“How about… well… it’s just past lunch time. What’s your favorite food?”

“Pirozhki. My mother made it every week and for holidays. Now, I make it for… I cannot make it any longer.”

Henry thought for a moment. “What’s… that?”

“Pastries filled with potatoes or cheese, though I make it with beef. It is good dish, Гудчайлд. You are free. You should try it. What do you love, Гудчайлд?” the man asked, his interest piqued.

“Oh, uh… well, I like cheese. And cupcakes,” Henry said. He sat down, cross-legged. “But, um… uh… I like burgers, too.”

The man chuckled. “I could never stand _burgers_. You have odd taste, Гудчайлд.”

Henry asked, “What should I call you? I know that some Toppats, when they join, leave their old name behind or choose a new one.”

“What would you call me, Гудчайлд?”

“Um…” the boy hummed and bit his cheek. “Well, I don’t know that much about you. But you speak Russian, like my teacher. And she’s a great person! So, how about… Afanasiy? She had a friend by that name.”

“Afanasiy,” the man repeated. “That is nice name. I will keep it. You may call me ‘Afanasiy,’ Гудчайлд. Do you learn Russian?”

“Yeah! I’m taking a Russian Language Class in school,” Henry answered. “Are you Russian?”

“Да. My home is… far away. Where do you live, Гудчайлд?”

“I live here,” Henry said. “But, uh… I lived in an orphanage in New Mexico, if that’s what you’re asking. The United States.”

“New Mexico. What is it like there?”

“Hot! And dry!”

Henry sat there for hours, chattering on and on to the man and listening to his responses. He was quiet, and his answers rather short. Sometimes his voice deepened in sadness or guilt. Even when he said something that Henry thought would make him angry–like talking about the Toppat Clan and how they captured him–he was just… resigned.

Henry glanced down at his watch. “O-oh! I need to go to dinner. I’m really sorry, Afanasiy. You’ve been really nice!”

“As have you, little illusion. I will not keep you.”

“I’ll come back, though!” With that, Henry got to his feet and ran off, the vault and its contents forgotten.

* * * * *

“Guys!”

Henry and Charles spun around. Ellie ran up to them in the hall, somehow catching up to them _before_ the cafeteria. A wide smile glowed upon her face and her dark green eyes were alight in excitement. Charles grinned. “What?”

“I’m allowed to be not grounded after Thanksgiving!” Ellie chuckled. “I’ll help with Thanksgiving dinner and then _finally_ be free again!”

“That’s great!” Charles congratulated.

“Really?” Henry asked. “I thought you said it was until the end of November!”

Ellie snickered. “Well, they changed their minds.” As they walked to the cafeteria, Ellie asked, “So what are you guys doing for Thanksgiving? My entire extended family is coming over.”

Charles grinned. “Mom, Dad, and I are going to visit our grandparents in North Carolina! Everyone else is going, too. So, I don’t know if I’ll be at the school the day before.”

Henry tipped his head from side to side. “I’m just going to be with my family, too.”

 _What was Thanksgiving like?_ The question nagged at Henry the entire day.

Ellie claimed, “We all sit together in the same house talking for a while before eating a giant dinner and going home.”

Charles said, “The whole family gets together and celebrates. You know, like playing games and telling stories and stuff. That’s family bonding right? Yeah. Oh, and most people chip in to make a giant dinner. My grandparents and great grandparents don’t normally help, though my grandma on my Mom’s side always takes over with the sweet potatoes. I get to help with the turkey every year.”

Joan answered, “Yeah, we all get together, chat a while, and eat a big dinner. I get to babysit my younger cousins while my siblings and older cousins go out and shoot ball.”

Calvin chuckled, “Yeah, us, too. But we usually push babysitting off on one of our aunts or uncles or something and go practice shooting with Uncle Ben.”

Konrad put in, “And dinner. A big ol’ dinner with turkey and pies and potatoes.”

Henry did not know what the Toppats would do. After all, Dad Reginald and Uncle Right came from somewhere in England, Sal came from Italy, and Wallace was Scottish. Thanksgiving was an American holiday. So, maybe they wouldn’t do anything. It wouldn’t be too big a difference to Henry; the orphanage hardly did anything. Decorations were put up and they’d have a big dinner, but that was just about it.

Well, Thanksgiving was about being with family, right? So maybe that’s all that mattered. Oh, and maybe Henry could convince one of the chefs to make pumpkin pie. That was a thing, right? Pumpkin pie? Technically, there would be a lot of pumpkins, or something. Why else would pumpkin pie be popular on Thanksgiving?

Henry wasn’t curious for long, however.

Howie said as they walked home, “The Toppats don’t norm’lly celebrate holidays that are real specific. But they celebrate stuff like Easter and then the December ones like Christmas, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa. Oh, and New Year’s. The chief usually puts the ship on auto-pilot and a bunch a’ the adults get drunk off their _asses._ It’s hilarious. Ya probably don’t want to mess with anyone after, but it’s great. Ah totally don’t sneak off with any a’ the drinks.” He hesitated. “Okay, sometimes Ah do, jus’ don’t tell anyone.”

The boy chuckled and nodded. “Okay.” Still, a rather hard feeling knotted up in his stomach. Alcohol was never good. The ladies had always gotten pretty bad when they got drunk. Even the ones that were normally nice got snappy at them. They had fun amongst each other but didn’t tolerate the kids as much.

“What’s wrong, little buddy?”

Henry ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just… I don’t know. Don’t they get mean?”

“Mean? Nah, most a’ them aren’t real mean drunks. Stay away from Wallace, don’t like kids botherin’ him too much. Other than him, ya don’t have ta worry about it, little buddy. ’sides, if ya get scared, just hang out in yer room or the Bridge or somethin’. Anyone that’s even a little tipsy ain’t allowed in there.”

Henry tipped his head. “Why?”

“’cause they could press the wrong button or somethin’ and crash the ship? Ah dunno.” Howie grinned as they got near the pod. “But since everyone’s always so… busy ’round that time, you could get away with practically _anythin’_ if you’re clever enough not ta leave evidence or raise suspicion.”

Henry hopped into the pod and watched Howie type something into the panel. “Like what?”

“Pretty much anythin’. Ah normally just sneak desserts outta the kitchen. But sometimes Ah sneak out to be with some friends or somethin’. As long as Ah’m back b’fore the night shift ends in the mornin’ Ah’m good. Man, do ma friends throw way better parties. Ah mean, watching some real smarty pants adults fall over each other drunk is fun and all, but ma friends get hammered an’ try an’ play Scrabble and beer pong. It’s great. What’ll you do, ya think?”

Henry hummed. “Well, everyone stays home with their own families on Thanksgiving. Where were you on Halloween?”

“Gettin’ drunk at Rob’s house,” Howie said with a nonchalant shrug. “One of the ladies–uh, Ah don’t remember who–threw some punch, Ah think, at me and then went to the bathroom ta vomit. Woke me up enough ta get home. Didn’t drive, ’cause Ah didn’t bring ma car. Don’t drive after drinkin’. Best way to get yerself or someone else killed, short of playin’ with firearms.” He chuckled, “Ah’m glad for the autopilot on these things. Ah’d have missed the airship by a longshot!”

As soon as they were on the airship, Henry went to the Records room. It was Tuesday; a week had come and gone. Charles had not forgotten about his helicopter but did not remind Henry of it. Henry had spent nervous days waiting, even falling out of focus during training with Uncle Right over the weekend. That had been quickly remedied. But now, the wait was nearly over. Dr. Brown should be done with the helicopter and then he would find Henry. It would be completely fixed and then Henry could bring it back to Charles and everything would be okay!

Eventually, as Henry continued anxiously roaming the room, the door opened. In stepped Dr. Brown, just as neat and calm as the last time Henry had seen him. This time, he was carrying the long white box with a helicopter printed on the side. Henry perked up and rushed over to the man. “You have it? You fixed it?”

“I sure did! Thank you for letting me take a look at it, Henry. You should find that everything is in order. In fact!” Dr. Brown knelt and opened the box. Out came Charles’ helicopter, not a scratch or dent or crooked piece in sight. “I made a few adjustments, I hope your friend doesn’t mind. I kept his signature on the bottom. Eh, technically, Mac Dandy rewrote it, but there shouldn’t be a difference.”

Henry sat on his ankles and gently took the helicopter from him. “This is amazing. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome kid. Now! You haven’t even seen the best part! Well, technically, I doubt you still would. You see, I was able to extend its battery life by a _massive_ amount. These modern R/C toys. They have no battery life to speak of. This means he can also use the front and side lights, which are brighter and will, again, last longer. You see this thing here?”

Henry turned the helicopter over so he could look just under the base of the head cover. Right above the little hole with the dim light and at the tip of its nose was another hole with a round bulb that almost looked like another light, if black. “What is it?”

“That, dear boy, is a camera. Now, I found this remote to be a little plain. However, I did not mess with it too much. This panel here? It can be slid forward to reveal a screen.” Dr. Brown pressed down on a little button on the largest area of flat, smooth plastic and dragged it forward. Two buttons dressed the bottom. “This red button on the left here turns the cameras on and off. This yellow button flicks between day and night vision. Unfortunately, it was too difficult to find a way to move the camera or zoom in or out, at least in the time frame I gave you. So, instead, the camera has a wide view. See this port here? You can plug a larger screen, such as a tablet, into it and show the camera there. You do not need it, but the camera can be difficult to see here. The camera _will_ consume battery a little longer, but this helicopter now has a maximum battery life of two hours, a minimum of roughly an hour if the light and camera is used at the same time.”

Henry turned over the helicopter again and inspected it. Everything was straight and orderly. The head cap had been repainted, and then signed at the bottom. “…thank you.” He looked up at Dr. Brown. “What can I do to repay you?”

“Well, you allowed me to pull apart and put back together again that helicopter, that was very interesting,” Dr. Brown commented. “The parts hardly cost anything at all. But if you sincerely believe this deserves more compensation than you have already given me, how about feedback from your friend? I would absolutely love to know his reaction! Oh, and be sure to give it a test flight. It should work as it did before, save for the new parts, but I wish to make sure. It is a _little_ more powerful than it was before, but that will take no time at all to adjust.”

Henry grinned and nodded. “Of course, Dr. Brown! Thank you!”

Henry could hardly match Howie’s pace as they walked to school. He couldn’t help it; he was going to give Charles back his helicopter. Then he could stop being so anxious over it. The toy meant a lot to him, it had to. Henry just hoped the modifications didn’t, well, change it too much?

When Henry got to the school, he found Charles hopping out of a pretty blue car. Henry waved, stretching his arm as high as he could. “Charles!”

The boy looked up and then gasped and ran up to meet Henry. His eyes went wide, and he grinned wider as he saw the helicopter’s case. “Henry! A-and you returned my helicopter!”

“Well of _course!_ Here! Um, he did make some changes to it. I hope that’s okay.”

Charles tipped his head. “Changes?”

“Mhm.” Henry rattled off what Dr. Brown had told him, not the least of which was the extended battery life and more powerful motor.

“Wow,” his friend breathed. “He must be some sort of genius.”

“Yep! Do you want to try it out, now?”

Charles nodded vigorously and gently took the box from Henry. They walked some distance away from the school and any people they could hit. Charles turned on the helicopter, held tight his controller, and the both of them backed up.

The reaction was _immediate._

The helicopter whirred to life and shot up. It hovered a few feet above them before Charles commanded it to stop. There was a few minutes of the helicopter buzzing in sloppy circles and figure eights and circles that might have been attempted squares. Charles concentrated hard on the machine as it dipped high and low, sometimes tilting, and sometimes jarring at a wrong input. “Very sensitive,” he muttered to himself.

Henry tried not to show the slight panic stirring inside of him. The helicopter was too different from what it was before, wasn’t it?

However, forty-five minutes into its flight–with Charles turning on the lights and camera at one point–the helicopter came to a relatively smooth landing right in front of them. The whirring of its motor eased into nonexistence. Charles unplugged something on the side of the helicopter, automatically turning off the side lights. Charles gently picked up his helicopter and looked over it again before carefully setting it back in its case.

“Is it okay?” Henry finally broke the silence between the two.

“Huh?” Charles looked up as he clipped the box shut. “Oh! Yeah! It’s amazing, Henry! Thanks! I didn’t expect it to do this. I just thought that you’d fix the blades and landing skids, you know? I’ll need a few more flights to really get a hang of it, but this was really nice of you. Thanks, Henry!” He held up his hand and Henry returned the high-five, though Charles held onto his hand in a tight grip, leading Henry to do the same. “We are going to be a great team, Henry! I just know it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Hehe Helicopter blades go brrrr_
> 
> On an unrelated note, I'm almost finished with the story! I need a few transition chapters, the ending transition, and then the endings themselves. There may be a rough chapter count by the end of the month. Honestly, the poll I created (that's still up, btw!) that y'all answered is helping me enormously. The answers surprised me, and I've even changed/created/removed some endings. I may post the "broken" endings on a separate document on dA or Google Drive. Anyway, I made a second poll concentrating on a slightly less focused upon subject in DPDS, but one that I've been kinda considering adding. By this point, you might have noticed the new ship I tagged? Well, I want your opinions on any others in the future. I present to you: [My "DPDS" Fanfiction for a Ship](https://forms.gle/ByddH12nUWYUdoKy5) I don't normally write more than one ship, if any. But I might stretch my wings a little if y'all are interested.


	16. Cool Break

_“We are going to be a great team, Henry! I just know it!”_

Henry couldn’t ask for better friends than Charles and Ellie. Through thick and thin, they stayed together. Even when Ellie got in trouble for something-or-other and got grounded or something taken away, Charles and Henry were always there to sneak a conversation. Henry had gotten three walkie talkies with Oldmin for the trio next time they went treasure hunting. They sometimes stayed over at Charles’ house, but they went to visit Ellie, too. They never asked to go to Henry’s house, as each time he was asked, the boy would dodge the question. After more than a dozen conversations that started with “So what about your house, Henry?” that somehow turned into how fun their latest adventure had been or how gross fish was or even what the weather would be like in a few days, the subject was dropped. They were soon going into Christmas Break, anyway. A time where it wasn’t just _their_ houses that they visited, but trips into the mountains or to town or more exploration of the desert was in store for them. That was, when Henry wasn’t training with Dad Reginald or Uncle Right, and Charles and Ellie weren’t with their families.

Through the months, he visited Afanasiy almost every day. He delivered a meal to him after lunch, as they never gave him lunch. At one point, Henry found himself with an extra Gameboy with games, so he gave it to Afanasiy. He was grateful for the gift. All the while, he helped Henry learn Russian. In fact, there were days where Afanasiy _only_ spoke his native language, forcing Henry to remember and refine his own knowledge of the language. Afanasiy was a good man.

Henry had watched as a few people strung up some lights near the top of the cafeteria in the airship. A fancy eight-candle contraption lit with oil had been set up a little while before, while a large pine tree was set up in a corner.

Henry stayed away from the shiny lights and glimmering baubles, knowing he might accidently find himself holding onto them. It happened every year; the tree would be set up and decorations glimmering in the buildings. Then Henry would collect as many as he could and squirrel them away. They were eventually found, and he was eventually punished, but he liked them and so it was worth it. He wouldn’t be getting any presents, but that was a given. Still, he wanted to make sure Dad Reginald and Uncle Right and Howie got something so, after spending quite a few days thinking and pacing, he got what he wanted and hid them under the decorated tree. Matilda helped him wrap these and taught him a few tricks herself.

Raids tended to pick up in choice spots, places where security went more lax with more people spending more time at home with family and friends. Henry… had found a weird sense of guilt at this point, even though it wasn’t him doing it. Perhaps he was guilty for second-guessing the Toppat Clan, or maybe it was because one of the Christmas stories Charles told him laminated on how his parents weren’t there on Christmas Day due to an emergency, three days after their car had been cleaned out by some other thieves. But Henry would never steal from Charles, and that was that. So, he shouldn’t feel guilty. Besides, Charles got to spend a lot more time with his aunt and uncle and cousins that year.

Now, Henry sat in his room, boxes to his side, wrapping paper somewhere else. Howie wasn’t there, staying the night with some friends for some reason or another. It was but a day before Christmas Eve, and Howie promised he’d spend _some_ time with them at around that time. Henry didn’t mind. Howie had other friends, and this was a time to spend with them.

Henry looked over the object in his hands. The miniature helicopter, an unpainted gray, sat snugly within the box. He gently lowered it into the rather large showy case that could double as a terrarium if need be. Though, it’s all glass sides and top might cause suffocation, so it probably shouldn’t be used for animals. From every angle Henry looked at it after placing it on a table, he could see into it. The glass was thick, made to be difficult to crack and relatively easy to clean. Even so, Henry set a bottle of glass cleaner inside of it. On second thought, he decided to tape it to the bottom as he put packing foam inside and around the glass box.

After taping shut the cardboard box, he set it aside–nearly dropping it as he’d forgotten how heavy it was–and went to the next one. This one was to become the home to something shiny. Henry had found it to be neat, but more importantly, he knew Ellie would like it. She had a bicycle and it was already really cool. However, it could use something. That something was a headlight. He noticed that, despite how cool her bike was, it was difficult to use at night. Plus, she could slowly turn her bike into a motorcycle or something. She had confessed to saving up to buy her own motorcycle as soon as she hit the age her parents would let her get one. That age was definitely a few years away, if Henry knew anything about how dangerous motorcycles were and how reckless Ellie could be when excited.

Henry gently set the large, round light inside the box as well as the large bundle of neatly tied wires and electronics.

He set the box down next to the one he was to give to Charles.

Then, there was a smaller present. The tablet’s screen had a dull shine to it. He tapped the POWER button, revealing its full charge. Afanasiy had recently confessed his love of cookbooks and romances. Within, Henry had made sure to download every cookbook and romance book he could find that he could either get for free or pirate. As Henry hadn’t the first clue to pirating, he asked Cuppa Joe for help with the cookbooks and kept that knowledge to download the rest of them. Unfortunately, he couldn’t add internet to it without it being traceable. For variety, he added a bunch of different popular ones from Siberia, where Afanasiy originally hailed. The box, which came with a battery Henry could charge in his room, was as thin as possible and a little wide to fit the tablet as snuggly as possible.

Henry then searched his room. It didn’t take long to find the roll of shiny red and white striped paper. His scissors and tape were set on his bed, and so he could go to work!

…man, cutting straight lines was _hard._ Even with the grid on the back of the paper, he still missed a few places and the line turned out to be jagged with the occasional venturing line he fixed with a little tape. Now, what he was going to wrap was a box– _boxes_. Boxes were easy; they were squares.

Henry was _terrible_ at this! How could he be so terrible? They were boxes!

Henry went through a little too much wrapping paper as he messed up the measurements and made a few too small pieces, revealing parts of the cardboard box. Also, when the paper was wrapped over a corner, the parts not touching cardboard stuck out like wings. He faintly recalled seeing triangles taped to the sides of some of the boxes, so that’s what he did. Although bent in weird angles in some places, he was eventually able to get the wrapping paper tied down and kind of neat. Great!

Onto the next box.

As Henry started measuring out the wrapping paper on Ellie’s by placing her box on the wrapping paper, he considered help. _Someone_ should know how this stuff worked. Someone should be good at wrapping presents, right? Well, it’s true Henry wasn’t great. But he got these presents on his own! Well, sort of. He went with Oldmin to get them and then the Toppat crewmember carried the tank while Henry carried all of the boxes and bags Oldmin had gotten. But other than that, Henry did it. Besides, wrapping boxes wasn’t that hard.

Eventually, Henry stood up and set his hands on his hips, admiring his handiwork. They were rough around the edges, sure, and Charles’ obviously had two different strips of wrapping paper. But they were still presents. Now, there was something missing… what was–oh! Right!

Henry grabbed a few bows and stuck them on Charles’ and Ellie’s. Boom! Done. Henry scribbled down their names and then his own. Henry cleared out his backpack and stuck Afanasiy’s and Ellie’s presents inside, though it was intensely difficult to zip it closed. Henry tossed the backpack over his shoulders, grabbed his scooter, and then attempted to pick up Charles’ present.

Yeah, no.

Henry hummed and looked between his mode of transportation and the heavy box. If Henry couldn’t deliver everything at once, how did he expect to bring them to Ellie’s and Charles’ places? Henry chewed on the inside of his cheek and then brightened. He opened his scooter and then tied down Charles’ present. Ha! Henry was a genius.

Smirking to himself, Henry guided his scooter out of his room and to the nearest pod. Henry needed to unstrap the box and fold his scooter once inside due to room, but that was fine. He got on his toes and started to press a few buttons, but hesitated. He’d never actually used one of these pods by himself. Well, he’d seen it used countless times by plenty of people. All he needed to do was press a few buttons and presto! Ah, that was, after Henry figured out where to go. The buttons mainly consisted of numbers, but there were a few letters. So, he typed in “Boulder City, Nevada” and watched the screen. What he could assume a green, line-crossed map of North America zoomed in closer and closer to the ground until a little light shown on the edge of a town. Good enough for him.

Henry sat down and strapped himself in as the pod rushed away from the ship. He hummed and held onto his backpack. Henry glanced out the window. The sun had reached its pedestal in the sky. He would need to be quick about it. Thankfully, his scooter was fast. That and he had been using it for quite a while. Man, Ellie might like her bike, but his own motorized scooter was clearly the superior… vehicle? Were bikes vehicles? Probably.

The pod landed. Henry pulled everything out and set up his scooter with Charles’ present tied down to it. A little cautious, Henry guided the scooter rather than rode it until he hit asphalt, at which point in time he hopped on and rode.

Ellie’s house didn’t take long to find. He set the box down on the porch, gave the doorbell a ring to be sure no pirates stole her present, and rode off. He heard the door open. But he was quickly much too far away to call or be called.

Now, it was Charles’ house that was a little tricky. The fastest way was straight through Las Vegas. But, as it would be getting dark by the time he got there, he didn’t necessarily like the thought of driving through the city alone, even if he was on his scooter. Still, Henry knew that there was no other way.

So, through Las Vegas Henry rode.

…

…this was boring.

Henry had hours to go, driving on his scooter which, though faster than a bike, was not as quick as a car. In fact, if he got to Charles’ house at the time he estimated–somewhere around six or something–it would be quite late by the time he got back.

He should have just left both presents on Ellie’s doorstep and asked for help. But, nah. He didn’t and that was fine.

…

_Ugh._

…

Henry stopped at a stoplight and pulled out the music player and earphones Charles let him have. He’d found it funny how much Charles’ taste in music matched with Henry’s. So, as Henry drove through the city, he hummed and tapped his heel to the tune of whichever song felt like playing at random.

Dinner would be nice.

The late winter sun dipped farther down into the sky. Soon enough, the sky would be plunged into dusk and then fall into the night. With a pang, Henry realized he couldn’t remember telling anyone where he was going. How, eh… _silly_. Yeah, he had a feeling he was going to get a bit of an earful when he got back to the airship. Well, that was okay, because Henry would have finished his task by then! That was great!

…

Henry could hear the faint whooping of police sirens in the distance. He needed to slow his scooter in some places due to the sheer amount of people, but he could ride on the road or bike lanes, and that was fine.

Okay, was he there yet? Well, he could see the thinning edge of the crowd and the expanse of desert. So, he was close to the end of Las Vegas. Though, it _was_ a little hard to see as the sun was almost completely below the horizon at this point. Well, the road was clear, and the dark–or even pale–road was still a contrast to yellowish scrubby land. So, he didn’t need to worry about getting lost in the desert.

By the time Henry approached the base, his hands and arms and legs and practically everything was quite sore and tired.

Still, he managed to make it to the base. A few soldiers stopped him, but after recognizing Henry, let him go. It took a little while as Henry didn’t usually go to Charles’ place, and never went there on his own, but he was eventually able to find it.

Henry stopped his bike, unstrapped Charles’ gift, and then heaved it up and to the door. He’d hardly gotten to the door when it opened.

Henry, still holding the present, looked up at Charles’ father. There was no mistaking their familial connection; the man was just an older version of Henry’s best friend. “Henry! I didn’t expect to see you here,” Mr. Calvin announced. “It’s pretty late out. What are you still doing outside?”

Henry, puffing, gestured to what he was holding with his head.

Mr. Calvin gently took it from him. “Well! This certainly has some weight to it. …is this for Charles? You’re a thoughtful young man!”

“Dad!” Charles’ voice came from farther inside. “Mom wants to know who’s at the door!”

“Henry!” Mr. Calvin called back.

“Henry?”

Henry watched as Charles took a corner and arrived by his father’s side. “Hey, Henry!”

Henry grinned and waved back.

“What are you doing here?”

Mr. Calvin said, “He was delivering a gift to you. See? Make it yourself?”

Henry nodded.

“Whoa. Thanks, Henry! That’s really nice of you. Oh! Wait right here!” Charles darted back into his house.

“Now, how did you get here?”

Henry pointed to his scooter, which lay on the ground.

Mr. Calvin raised an eyebrow. “Charles didn’t tell us you lived near here.”

Henry shrugged with a nervous smile. _The airship was near South America. But that’s “near” relative to, uh… Africa?_

“…well, since I don’t see you or your parents here, but you don’t go to a school in Las Vegas, did you ride your scooter all the way from Boulder City to here?” After getting a confirmatory nod, he puffed, “That’s a long ways to go, kid.”

Charles came up from behind his father, a present in hand. “I got one for you, too, Henry!” As Henry took the box, Charles went on, “By the way, is Howie around here? Or are you going back to Ellie’s place? Or the school? Wait, that’s a pretty long ways off. Are you riding _all the way_ there?”

Mr. Calvin said, “Henry, that’s a very long ways to go. How about I bring this back to the tree and we drive you back to your parents’ house?”

Henry shook his head, smiling a little.

Mr. Calvin’s smile was gone and replaced by a look of concern. “Henry, I don’t want you driving all the way back there at night. How about I call your parents and we can meet up?”

Henry pouted and thought for a moment. _They… Dad Reginald and Uncle Right probably wouldn’t be able to meet with them. But Howie definitely could!_ Henry turned to Charles.

Charles looked up at his father. “Dad? Howie usually picks him up from our or Ellie’s house. So, he’d probably pick him up again.”

“Even so, it’s not safe to be outside at night all alone. Come in, Henry. You look tired!”

Henry glanced back at his scooter.

“You can bring it inside.”

So, Henry folded his scooter and brought it inside. The warmth of the house gnawed away at the chill of the outside. Henry, clutching his present–which was more well wrapped then the one Henry had made–and scooter, he dawdled in the front area.

As Mr. Calvin walked back inside, Charles stayed with Henry. “So, you really rode all the way here?” After getting a confirmatory nod, he asked, “Does your dad and uncle know?”

With a bashful smile, Henry shook his head.

“Ahhhh, okay. Uh, but I will see you later, right? They’re not going to kill you or anything? I mean, I know they wouldn’t do that. But you get what I mean?”

Henry nodded and sighed. But, with Mr. Calvin far away, Henry muttered, “Probably. I just forgot to tell them I was going out.”

“Tell them? So, you didn’t ask?”

Henry shrugged. “Well, they said that I could make these gifts for you and Howie wasn’t home. Howie usually takes me out. So, I thought I’d go myself. I… think Dad would tell me to stay home.”

Charles chuckled. “Yeah, probably. I mean, it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow! I’m surprised you got out of the house!”

Mr. Calvin came back into the front room. “I called your father, Henry. He said that Howie should be here in about an hour and a half, maybe two. We were just about to sit down for dinner. Do you want to join us?”

Henry’s eyes went wide. He shrunk into himself and shrugged.

Charles piped up, “It’s okay, Henry! Mom makes really great spaghetti and we always have leftovers.”

Henry looked between them and then mumbled, “Okay.”

Henry had never stayed over at Charles’ house long enough to warrant staying for dinner, but Henry had not been super unhappy at that fact, seeing as it would be hard to get away, for one, but for two he didn’t want to make Mrs. Calvin make more dinner than she usually does. But tonight, he found less reluctance. After all, Mrs. Calvin was a very good cook. She even made her own spaghetti sauce.

Mrs. Calvin asked, “So, Henry. Do your parents celebrate Christmas?” After getting a confirmatory nod, she said, “Well, then, Merry Christmas, Henry. You’re a very nice kid. I really hope I can meet your parents sometime, hmm?”

Henry shrugged, his small smile gone. _It was getting rather tiresome denying them. They were both really nice, but…_

The doorbell rang. Henry, after helping put away the last of the dishes from dinner, followed Mr. Calvin to the door. “Howdy!” said Howie. “Oh, hey, little buddy! We were a tad worried when we couldn’t find ya at the house.”

Henry shrugged and looked away.

“Well, we don’t mind having the boy over. He’s a delight,” Mr. Calvin hummed. “Merry Christmas and have a safe drive home!”

“You, too, sir!” They waited until they were driving before Howie said, “All the way here, huh?”

“I rode my scooter,” Henry said. “But I didn’t get kidnapped or arrested or something.”

Howie snickered. “You’re jus’ the best, aren’t ya? Well, Chief Reginald told me to bring ya back. But Ah’m sure there ain’t hard feelin’s. Nothin’ happened and ya gave some presents to yer friends. Plus, it’s Christmas! Who can be mad on Christmas?”

“Henry Stickmin. That was extremely uncalled for!”

Henry stood in the Bridge, having been sent there by Howie, with Dad Reginald and Uncle Right, neither looking the least bit pleased. “I was going to deliver a few gifts to Charles and Ellie. Then I’d be back! I just… forgot it would take so long to get to Charles’ place. B-but! Charles’ parents like me! And Howie! They know us both. And I even got to say hi to a few people on the way. It’s fine.”

Dad Reginald sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Henry, we have been very busy dealing with many problems today as is.” _Uh oh._ “Dealing with your whims is not one of them.”

Henry… elected to stay quiet. Maaaaaybe there would be some mercy? Because it was just a few hours until Christmas Eve, and Henry had been doing a good thing. It’s not like anything bad even happened! But thinking this would mean that Henry would “expect” to be forgiven just because it was a holiday. He didn’t expect that! …okay, maybe a little, but he just forgot to tell them he was going out, and besides, nothing bad happened.

Dad Reginald stated, “You had no plan on how you would get back. Unless your plan was to go through Las Vegas, at night, alone.”

Henry… didn’t answer.

“It is very late,” Dad Reginald conceded. “Get some sleep. We will talk about this in the morning.”

“Okay. Good night, Dad Reginald! Uncle Right!” Henry could not leave the Bridge fast enough.

Henry dropped by the Brig, despite being out of his way. “Hey, Afanasiy? I got you a gift.”

“A gift?” the man repeated, as if the word was more foreign than Henry’s lingo.

Henry pushed it under the slot where the food tray normally went. “Yeah. Merry Christmas! I’ll come back on Christmas, but you can open it whenever you want.”

“…thank you, Гудчайлд.”

When Henry got to his room, Howie was lounging in his own bed, tossing a ball up and then catching it and tossing it again. “Howdy, Henry! What happened?”

“We’re going to talk in the morning.”

“Better than nothin’,” Howie said with a shrug. “Anyway, Ah’m turning in early fer the night.”

Henry raised his eyebrows. Howie? Going to sleep _early?_

Howie caught his ball and set it beside his bed. “Yeah, Ah’m wakin’ up early and swipin’ a bottle or two from the kitchen b’fore Mr. Thicc gets to work. Plannin’ for the long-haul kid. They’ll suspect it on Christmas Eve, but not the night before. They might plan fer late at night, but not early in the mornin’.” He tapped his head and then pulled his blanket over himself.

Henry tipped his head. “But you can’t drink it.”

“Yeah, but Ah wanna see if Ah can get it and then get away with it.”

Henry thought for a moment. “I mean… you can’t do anything with it, though.”

“And _you’ve_ never stolen anythin’ for the heck of it? Ta see if ya could?” Howie pressed.

The younger boy shrugged. “True. Good night.” Henry dimmed the lights and then took his Gameboy from the charger in the wall. He couldn’t play for very long before becoming sleepy himself. He plugged in the game, set it on the unopened present Charles gave him, turned off the lights completely, and to bed he went.

At some point in the night, his dreams were bothered, perhaps by something in the waking world. But whatever it was had been so faint and short-lived, Henry did not actually wake. When Howie’s alarm went off, Henry _did_ wake.

He yawned and rolled over, so he faced the empty space between their beds. Howie, snickering, sat on his bed, a tall bottle of wine in his hand. “Got it!”

Henry pushed himself up to sit and rubbed his eyes. Howie no longer held anything. “Good morning.”

“Good mornin’!” Howie stretched. “It’s a rather fine mornin’. Hey, Ah got nothin’ Ah gotta do right aft’r breakfast. Ya free for some good ol’ practice?”

Henry rubbed his eyes and then nodded. He bit back a yawn and got to his feet. His mind clearer now that he was actually using his body and no longer stayed under the blanket, Henry gave Howie a more definitive answer. “Okay!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like these dudes. I hope everyone sticks around to the end. Christmas is fun. But, dang, Charles' parents had to go on a mission against some thieves on Christmas in one of the years previous... after getting their car broken into, no less!
> 
> So, since we got people of all types of different nationalities, I put down different big holidays, like Christmas, Hanukka, and Kwanza. But stuff like Thanksgiving, which Henry would normally celebrate being American, isn't because of this. I mean, the Toppat Clan provides more flexible hours, so I think for culture-specific holidays, certain people could go home to celebrate them. But on the airship in general, not so much, again save for the most popular ones in the winter.


	17. Visitor

_Christmas was so much fun._ The airship had never been emptier than it was that day, even if it was just Christmas Eve. There were still plenty of people, but most had gone home to their families. They probably wouldn’t be back until the twenty-sixth. Since all raids were put on hold in both respect and common sense, those people that did stay behind really just… stayed behind. So, Henry and Howie had an entire airship almost entirely to themselves.

“Henry!” Howie called from the Tank in a Box. The crate was open, and its lid rested partially on its top, but its other end rested on the ground below to make an incline. “Ah bet ya can’t make this jump on yer scooter.”

Henry smirked and hopped onto his scooter, one foot on the ground to steady him. He stared down his new challenge. Sure, the incline was rather steep, but he could make it. Ooooh, he could _definitely_ make that. He squeezed one of the levers on his handle, revving the engine on his scooter. Then, after a breath of confidence, he pushed himself forward and planted both feet on the vehicle and raced it as fast as he could. The vehicle jerked up as its wheels hit the incline. But Henry wasn’t on the impromptu ramp for long before flying off. He laughed and let out a whoop, holding one hand in the air in an invisible high-five. Although his scooter wanted to tip forward, he kept it back, watching the ground rush up before him.

The scooter landed heavily on its back wheel and fell forward onto its front, no momentum nor speed lost as he zipped through the Warehouse. Henry spun his scooter around and rushed back to where he had been. One more turn later, he was again racing over the ramp. This time, he tried to jump, getting himself up farther, though his scooter didn’t feel like doing the same. As the ground rushed up to meet him, he shoved his feet down on the vehicle. Again, he escaped unscathed.

Still, he stopped when he approached the ramp a third time.

Howie laughed. “Good job, little buddy! Nice trick at the end there. Think you can do it again?”

Henry nodded and turned back to the ramp. He kicked off his scooter and rushed up the ramp. At the very last second, Henry jumped, throwing one hand into the air with a whoop. Unfortunately, he must have jumped too late as the scooter’s back end swung down rather fast. Henry grabbed onto the handlebars and attempted to land on his vehicle. The wheels hit the ground and Henry lurched forward, his feet skidding a little on the front as his heavier body pushed hard into the neck of the scooter. He was able to pull back, skidding to a stop with both feet planted firm on the scooter and hands gripping the handles in a death grip.

Howie ran up to him. “Whoa, little buddy? You okay?”

Henry nodded, taking a deep breath. Okay, okay. He made it. Alive and unscathed. He held up one hand in a thumbs up.

Howie grinned. “Great! Now, I got an idea.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “What do ya think of a good ol’ sneak?”

Henry’s eyes lit up.

“Okay, just crawl through this chute. There should be a hole in the Security room,” Howie instructed, gesturing to the trash chute next to the elevator.

Henry looked into the tube just large enough for Howie. “Um… why am I going again?”

“Because I need to stay here and look innocent,” Howie said. “Once ya get inta the Security Room, you _should_ have access to the giant computer as well as a few smaller ones nearby. Cuppa Joe is usually at that station, but he should be takin’ off soon enough. So, all you gotta do is wait and watch. Now, you should be heavier than the rest of the trash, so you won’t get sucked into anything.”

“Well… okay.” Henry took a deep breath. “I’m going. See you on the other side?”

“See ya, buddy!”

Henry opened the trash chute and hopped in. Immediately after the chute closed, he could feel the air suddenly get sucked out from under him. Henry hit the bottom of the chute, only to find that though he didn’t break it–there was only a dent left behind–he _did_ keep sliding.

Henry scrambled to grab a hold of it but was none too successful. Instead, he rammed straight into a repaired bend at full force. Again, the metal didn’t break, and he was sucked up into the bend straight up. Thankfully, there was a hole in the side leading into a large room. Henry grabbed a hold of it and pulled himself down to look over the edge. A Toppat wearing a blue hat and matching suit sat at the computer desk. Although a few cameras were shown in the smaller monitors, the larger monitor showed a massive board game with a whole bunch of cells and pawns on a map.

Henry, forgetting he was just a slip away from finding himself in wherever the trash went, watched Cuppa Joe play. After a while, something rang on the man’s phone. He shut down the game and left. Once the door was closed, Henry wriggled his way out, landing with a hard _puff_ on the ground. He quickly got to his feet and ran up to the computer.

Well, now Henry was at the computer and Cuppa Joe was gone. He looked up at the computer and then ran to the chute and looked inside. Well, he couldn’t just run out the door lest he run into someone, right? How were they supposed to communicate again? Henry… was supposed to do _something._ Well, he came in through the chute, may as well go back?

Just as Henry started to climb back in, the door opened. Howie strolled inside. “Howdy!”

Henry stepped away from the vent. “Hey! How did you know to come through?”

“Ah saw Joe leavin’,” Howie answered. “Now, what do ya think about a nice stroll across… Newgrounds?”

“Okay!”

Henry got the feeling that Newgrounds hadn’t been Howie’s first thought. However, the thoughts started to slip his mind as they tried out every competitive game that came their way. Eventually, as noon caught up with them, Howie said, “Alright, let’s bail before someone comes back, huh?”

“Aw, okay.” Henry watched as Howie erased all their progress and any hint of their presence rather quickly and stood back. “Um… are we really not supposed to be here?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Henry puffed with a wave of his hand. “Ah jus’ like doin’ that.”

As they walked to lunch, Henry said, “How many people do ya think are gunna be at lunch?”

Henry shrugged. “Not many, probably.” He thought for a moment. “If everyone else is gone, would you be able to sit at our table?”

“Sure, why not?”

Evidently, it turned out Henry was correct. A dozen Toppats scattered about the cafeteria. The dull roar that they had come to expect come lunch time had dwindled into the echoes of conversations. Of course, as they went to sit at their tables–Howie sitting across from Henry with a quiet “meh, sure”–Henry’s attention was grabbed by the tree. Someone had been messing with it that morning or perhaps last night, because even more decorative tinsel, bulbs, and lights decorated the magnificent tree. Right now, with all the lights on in the cafeteria and the sun glowing through the windows, the tree lights were off.

Howie chuckled. “Neat tree, right?”

“Yeah!” Henry exhaled. “I’ve never seen anything like it! The tree we used to get was way smaller and didn’t have as much decoration.”

Indeed, Henry had never been around something that glimmered and shone so wonderfully. Every Christmas the ladies would put up lights and decorations, and the kids would often help as well. Henry remembered watching James picking up the little ones so they could reach up higher on the tree to hang their messily painted ornaments or cut out colored paper on string. Henry was never fond of decorating, himself. It would always be taken down. Besides, if he put _his_ stuff up, the ladies would take it when they took down the decorations. So, each time he was given something to put on the tree, he’d squirrel it away. Then the ladies would find it, he’d be scolded, and the decorations given to the other kids. Eventually, they just stopped giving him things to take back to his bed.

Now, the mostly empty cafeteria was even emptier, and the bright lights on the tree glimmered, throwing multicolored lights over the wall and ceiling, and recently cleaned floor, unchallenged by the moon that now hung outside. The ornaments, ranging from bulbs to swirls to odd shapes, glinted or sparkled depending on their smooth or glittery surface. The tinsel was the largest perpetrator in hiding the green needles and rough branches of the tree. But high up at the top was a star with a little glowing top hat.

Henry admired a little white stag hanging from one of the branches, its white pelt glowing a faint green whilst its large rack had a reddish glow. Henry, sending an inconspicuous glance back to be sure no one actually saw him despite the cafeteria being empty, plucked the little stag from its place and turned it over in his hands. A bad feeling knotted up in his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t take the bobble; it didn’t belong to him. Moreover, it belonged to another Toppat Clan member. Or maybe it didn’t belong to anyone at all and was just a Christmas decoration that someone took from a storage unit. Still, he couldn’t help it. It was so pretty, and he loved the gorgeous little thing. Even the silver thread that looped over one of the twigs had a shimmer to it.

Suddenly feeling quite guilty, Henry slunk off, his newest prize–and a baby blue snowflake–clutched tight in his grasp.

It took him no time at all to slink past a couple of tired night watches and back to his room. Howie was already asleep. So, Henry lay in his bed, the stag’s thread hanging from one finger and the snowflake from another. He watched as they slowly pirouetted above him, the dull semi-light slipping in from under the door did little to illuminate the objects. Outside of the multicolored lights, they felt a little plain. Still, Henry liked them, and that’s all that mattered, right?

* * * * *

“Henry,” said Dad Reginald, catching Henry’s and Howie’s attention as they made their way to the cafeteria.

“Good morning!” Henry trilled and Howie yawned.

Dad Reginald nodded to Howie. “Go on ahead, Howie. Henry, what did you take?”

Henry lost his smile in favorite of confusion. Howie blinked and looked between them. Rather than engage, however, he walked off, throwing a glance over his shoulder as he did so. “What?” Henry looked between Dad Reginald and Uncle Right, but Uncle Right was as stoic as ever and Dad Reginald was not for one second amused by Henry’s charade.

“Last night, you took something,” Dad Reginald said. “Now, hand it over.”

Henry, frantically pulling on every bit of knowledge and training Howie taught him, shrugged. “I was in my room all night. I even went to bed before Howie.”

Dad Reginald let out a small sigh. “I know that you are an excellent liar, but this is not the time nor place.”

Henry looked between them and then sighed and trudged back to his room. Dad Reginald and Uncle Right followed. Henry, figuring he would get caught as Christmas ornaments were destined to stay out of his grasp, opened the chest at the foot of his bed. Silently thanking his nighttime self for not putting them in with the rest of his stash, Henry held up the stag and the snowflake. Their strings tangled as the two gently, slowly, rotated side-by-side.

Dad Reginald took the objects from him. “Henry, what did we tell you about taking things that belong to the Clan?”

“Not to? B-but I didn’t mean to! I promise!” Henry was quick to add.

“So, you _accidentally_ went into the cafeteria in the middle of the night and took these off the tree?” Dad Reginald prompted, holding up the pilfered objects.

 _Well when phrased like that, it was a little ridiculous._ “Yeah,” Henry mumbled, no longer looking Dad Reginald in the eyes. “I thought they were nice, but I didn’t…” He stopped talking. Talking was just going to get him into more trouble.

Dad Reginald looked to Uncle Right and then back at Henry. “And this is _all_ that you took. I’m not going to check under your bed and find anything else?”

Henry looked up. “What? No! No, that’s the only thing–er, things–I took. I swear. I took the deer and the snowflake. But nothing else.” _Dad Reginald wasn’t buying it, was he?_ Henry scrambled to think of something. “B-but! Um… I can put those back. I remember where I took them off the tree.”

“If I give these back,” Dad Reginald said. “–am I supposed to believe you would put them back and not hide them somewhere?”

Henry started to nod and then hesitated. “W-well… uh… I’ll try. But maybe I will. I-I mean I’ll put them back! Definitely. I won’t try to hide them somewhere. You can watch me if you want.”

“Okay.” Dad Reginald held out the decorations for Henry to reluctantly take. “You may put those back on the tree. Henry, you aren’t to steal from the Clan.”

Henry nodded, clutching the decorations with tightness and care. “Okay, Dad Reginald.” With that, they walked back to the cafeteria, Henry cursing himself every step of the way. He knew it was wrong to take from the tree! Why would he do that? Why? There was no valid reason for it!

Henry marched straight up to the tree and searched for the place where the stag had been. Well, he knew exactly where the deer went. But from where did he take the snowflake? Was it _that_ important? Well… okay, so the deer went there. Henry didn’t even remember taking the snowflake, but there was a little empty space a little bit away. And… there! Yep, the snowflake fit, successfully hiding an otherwise empty hole in the tree.

A little proud of his accomplishment, Henry speed-walked straight back to the table and hopped back into his space. “I forgot where the snowflake went, but I found it,” Henry stated.

“So, they are back in their proper places?”

Henry nodded. “Yep!”

Before proper confusion could be voiced from the table, someone called, “Table One!”

Henry, still rather nervous despite righting his wrong, stuck close to Dad Reginald’s side. Though this would be fleeting; they would be doing other things.

“Mom, who’s he?”

Henry bristled at the sound of a young girl’s voice. He looked back. Another woman, a pleasant looking woman just a little older than Carol with a purple witch’s hat, stood a few feet away from them. Holding her hand was little girl, her long brunette hair quite dissimilar from the woman’s shiny black hair. “Now don’t stare, Katie,” the woman clicked her tongue.

Henry looked up at Dad Reginald, but he wasn’t paying attention to the Witch or the girl with her. He’d never seen another kid on board. Sure, there was Howie, but he was a teenager, almost an adult.

Henry grabbed his eggs and pancakes, sending a few mistrustful looks back the girl’s way. The girl stared right back at him.

“Dad Reginald?” Henry finally asked as they made their way back to their table. “Who was she?”

Dad Reginald threw a quick glance back. “Oh, The Witch? She has an eight-year-old daughter. Katie, I believe. I think she’s considering keeping her on board.”

“Will she stay here?”

“I’ve already given her the go-ahead, but she still has the rest of December to decide. If she does stay, she’ll be a fellow Toppat, like you and Howie.”

Henry refused to look down the table, even though he spotted Katie sitting up as straight and tall as she could to get a better look at him. _Good luck with that_ , Henry mused as he was now sitting between Dad Reginald and Uncle Right. The Witch said something, and Katie looked away from him.

Henry mumbled, “I don’t like her.”

“Henry,” Dad Reginald chided. “–you’ve never even spoken to her!”

“She keeps staring at me. What if she doesn’t like me back? Why should I like her if she doesn’t like me?” Henry reasoned, playing with his syrup-soaked scrambled eggs.

“You don’t know that,” said Dad Reginald. “She’s hardly eight; she watches you because she is curious and wishes to know who you are. Come, now. Your breakfast will get cold by the time you start eating it at this rate.”

Henry obeyed, sending another cautious look down the table.

“Besides, Henry. You’re a young child and no one has expressed disdain at your presence.”

“Carol didn’t want me.”

“Carol was looking at the numbers in the small picture rather than thinking big. She doesn’t dislike you, she just believes we should have contacted you later in your life. But you have more than proven your skill and clever mind and potential for greatness. As we have never met Katie, we do not yet know anything about her. Perhaps, if she stays, you should get to know her.”

“Okay.”

Henry sent a sideways look at the girl, but he could barely see her above the table. Yeah. Well, maybe after Christmas or something? Maybe in January, if she sticks around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that Henry is no longer the only kid. Katie is just a few years younger than him. Also, she's little so it's hard for her to understand people might not want to be stared at so much. lol
> 
> Christmas is a fun time! Also, Henry's _definitely_ not going to break anything with his scooter doing tricks like that.


	18. Gift of Giving

After breakfast, Henry followed Dad Reginald and Uncle Right to the tree, which already had presents beneath it.

Dad Reginald asked, “Henry. When we caught you, you said you took those two ornaments. I am slightly surprised, considering the gifts beneath the tree were closer to you.”

“I didn’t want to take from anyone,” Henry stated simply. “I-I didn’t even really want to steal. But I really like the deer! It was so pretty. A-and the snowflake, too. But I didn’t want to!”

Dad Reginald hummed. “I understand. Well, Henry, what were your customs?”

“We all had presents under the tree,” Henry said. “Mrs. Bloodworth always kept me locked up on Christmas Eve. So, I had dinner and breakfast by myself. She didn’t want me taking anyone else’s presents. But I wouldn’t have! I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have! But she didn’t believe me. But at night, everyone got together to open their gifts.”

“Well!” Dad Reginald huffed, wearing a similar expression to the one he had when Henry wasn’t using his manners. “A cruel woman indeed.” He glanced at Uncle Right, who gave him a flat look. Though, whether he was agreeing or disagreeing with Dad Reginald, Henry couldn’t quite tell. But Dad Reginald was right, she was a bad lady. So, Uncle Right had to agree.

Anyway, Dad Reginald gestured to the tree and Henry stuck his head under the branches. Wow! What a nice little hiding spot! Man, if he’d known about this earlier. Tucking away this information for future use, Henry found a box with his name on it and dragged it out. He stood up and turned around. “Oh! Hi, Howie!”

“Howdy!” Howie greeted, his hands in his pockets and a present under his arm as he strolled up to them. “Good mornin’ Chief, Right Hand Man. Ya left this in our room, li’l buddy.”

Henry took it and looked around. People were in clusters ranging from two to five, for the most part. The Witch, Katie, Matilda, and Earrings sat together on the floor, the Witch holding Katie in her lap and Matilda cooing over her. Katie held out a gift for her. Wallace, Bill, Hambag, Ten Pence, and Harold sat at one of the tables together. Wallace snickered and punched Bill in the shoulder, eliciting a few laughs from the rest of them. Sven and Burt were chatting at another table, both pushing a present to the other.

Regardless, Henry got to fetch the gifts with their names on it and sit a few feet away from the tree in their own cluster. Henry picked up the gift on top of the small pile they made and held it out the Howie.

Howie ruffled Henry’s hair, causing him to duck and stick his tongue out at him. Within the simply wrapped box–which, because of Matilda’s help, was actually well wrapped–was a plush horse. The little horse was brown in the front with brown legs and spots over its white hindquarters and a black tail and back hooves. “I didn’t know what Appleblouse looked like, but you like the color brown.”

Howie lifted the horse up a bit more to look over it. “Aw, now look at that,” he whispered, a wistful look befalling him and his accent somehow a little thicker. “Ah’ll admit, it’s been so long Ah maself don’t remember her real well. But this pattern’s real pretty. Ya ’member ma ramblin’s?”

Henry nodded, grinning. “You were really happy talking about her, and it kinda seemed like you missed her. I don’t think we’re allowed to have real horses, so I thought a little toy one would be nice.”

Howie chuckled and brought her down again. “Li’l buddy, she’s perfect.” He bowed his head a little to hide under his hat. Henry bumped into him but didn’t say anything as Howie continued to look over her, running his fingers over her fluffy mane and felt body. Howie cleared his throat. “Why doncha open yer present, Henry?” He nudged the one on the top.

Henry hummed and opened his own box. He gasped and cooed, lifting up the object within by a silver loop. At the end of a thin string was a spider the size of his face from the tip of its back feet to its front feet stretched far before it. Its little body was black and shiny as an onyx while its giant abdomen was a wash of marbled cool colors that shone like antifreeze on water. It’s long legs, four of which held onto the string and four reached before it, were colorful as well. The joints looked like they were made of gems while the long, thin legs themselves were smoky and translucent, striped by yellow in the forearm and foreleg and then orange and red in the second piece. It’s pinchers and feet were golden. Henry looped the string of the weighted object in his hand, letting the thing slowly spin so he could see its underside etched with details.

“Wow…” he breathed, watching as the light danced magnificently off its smooth body.

Dad Reginald said, “Howie said you had a bejeweled brush you liked to keep with you. As your room had no decoration, he thought that perhaps you would like something to hang on your wall, if you wished. It’s your decision what to do with it, of course.”

Henry managed to tear his eyes away from the spider and looked back at Dad Reginald. “Decorate my room?” he echoed.

Dad Reginald hummed. “Yes!” He hesitated. “Have you ever been able to do that?”

Henry shook his head. “I lived with the other boys. And if I tried putting something up, they might want to take it or break it or something. Or the ladies would take it or something.” Henry narrowed his eyes in thought. “Well… they never took any of the other boys’ decorations, but their decorations were stupid. Like posters and stuff.”

Howie offered, “Ah’d never take a thing a’ yours, Henry. Ah just thought ya didn’t like hangin’ stuff up, ta be honest.”

Henry looked back at his spider. “…I know you wouldn’t do that, Howie. You’re really nice.” He thought for a moment and set the spider in his other hand. “Yeah. This would look really nice on the wall. But I don’t know how to put up stuff.”

Dad Reginald hummed. “We’ll help you, Henry. After this we can go back to your room and hang this up.”

Henry asked, “What about my practice poster? Can I hang that up, too?”

Howie looked between them. “Oh! Now this’ll be exciting! It’ll look like Ah have a roommate, huh?”

Henry liked Howie as a roommate. He was pretty nice and fun, and he was respectful of Henry even though he was older. So, when they went back to his room, Henry came to realize how barren it was. In fact, were it not for the extra pillow on his bed, it really didn’t look like Henry lived there. Well, that was changed. The spider got to sit right above the top of the bed at such an angle where it would catch the bathroom light when the door was partially open. They used little things that looked like tacks but were sticky instead of sharp. His first target poster riddled with holes was at the other side of the room. Henry opted to stick a picture of him, Ellie, and Charles to the corner. They were dirty and messy from a long time out in the desert searching for treasure, but Henry held up their hard work paid off: a tin can with a few dollars inside. Ellie pressed up against Henry on his right, sticking her tongue out and holding her hand behind his head in a pair of bunny ears. Charles stuck to his other side, grin wide and two fingers held out in a piece sign. The beginnings of sun burns brushed their arms and faces. Those hadn’t been very comfortable, and it was a quick lesson in the necessity of sunscreen.

Henry didn’t have much to put up on his walls, so they were done fairly quickly. Howie promised to play a few games with Henry and so Dad Reginald and Uncle Right went to join their fellow clan mates.

“So, Henry,” Howie said as they left. His toy horse sat neatly next to his pillow. “You’ve met Sven and Burt before, right?”

Henry shook his head. “I… don’t think so? Maybe, but I don’t really remember them.”

“That makes sense,” Howie conceded. “Well, they’re fairly new to the Toppat Clan. Burt stays in communications and Sven runs around helping with the records and papers. They’re pretty good guys. They’re not the _biggest_ fan of kids, but I think it’d be fun to meet up for a little bit! Then I’m thinking we can see who’s the best climber, huh? Hmm… they might still be in the cafeteria.”

Once they got to the cafeteria, they found the last remaining souls. It was the young blond man with a light blue hat that Henry had bumped into a while ago. The second was a young man the blond one’s age with auburn hair and similarly colored headphones, which broke through his top hat. The first had a package of some sort of candy and an opened box, while the other was holding a vastly different looking package of candy and an open box. The two looked up at Howie and Henry’s approach.

“Howdy!” Howie greeted. “You’ve met Henry, right?”

The blond one, Sven, nodded. “Yep.” Burt shook his head.

“Sven, Burt: this is Henry. Henry, this is Sven and Burt.” Howie gestured to the blond one and then the one with headphones respectively. “We were jus’ wonderin’ if ya’ll were up ta anything, stayin’ at the ship an’ all.”

The two looked at each other and then Howie. “Yeeeeeah, no, not really,” said Burt.

Sven shook his head. “We’re just staying here. My mentor’s out on break, and so is his. Since there’s _finally_ nothing big to do, we just decided to hang out a while.”

Burt nodded to Sven. “We got some foreign candy so we’re planning on taste testing it. Also hijacking a radio station.”

Howie snickered. “How’re ya able to say that with a straight face?”

Burt shrugged.

“An’way, Henry and I were going to do some dumb stuff, climbing an’ racin’ a scooter around. Right?”

Henry grinned and nodded.

“Just wanted ta stop bye and say hi!”

“Hi.”

Howie shot them a finger gun and clicked his tongue. “Okay, well, see ya!” With that, they two left. Burt and Sven went back to talking to each other. Henry glanced back and watched as Sven plucked a fish gummy from his bag and held it out. Burt took it and exchanged it for a piece of candy for Sven.

Henry looked up at Howie. “They’re not your friends, are they?”

“Not at all.” Howie shrugged. “Ah dunno why. But Ah guess not everyone gets along, huh? Hey, don’t tell a soul Ah said this, but Ah don’t know if Sven was tellin’ the truth about how best friends in his home country acted.”

Henry tipped his head. “What do you mean?”

Howie thought for a moment and then snickered. “Oh, nothin’. You’ll probably figure it out later.”

Henry had spent so much time with Howie, he nearly forgot he hadn’t visited Afanasiy that day. So, when Howie split off to sneak out and meet his friends–with a promise from Henry that he wouldn’t tell anyone–Henry made his way back to the Brig. Once the door shut behind him, he said, “Merry Christmas, Afanasiy! Did anyone bring you dinner already?”

“Merry Christmas, Гудчайлд,” Fanasiy hummed. Something shuffled inside the cell, probably the man sitting down on the floor rather than his bed. “Yes, someone did. It’s nice to meet you today.”

“Nice to meet you, too!” Henry grinned and sat cross-legged in front of the door. Not for the first time, Henry wished he could see the man. “How are you doing today? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Гудчайлд,” Afanasiy answered, though his mournful tone contradicted that statement.

“What’s wrong?”

He heard a deep sigh. “I miss my family, little one. My son, my wife, my parents and siblings and nieces and nephews. I did not spend very much time with my family outside of my wife and son. I see how much of a mistake that was, now. You spend plenty of time with your family, Гудчайлд?”

“Yes,” said Henry, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Afanasiy. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You being here has helped me quite a bit, Гудчайлд. Do not worry over me.”

Henry frowned but nodded. “Okay.”

“Now, what is the gift you gave me?” asked Afanasiy.

Henry perked up. “You still have it? You haven’t opened it?”

“I waited for you, Гудчайлд. I do not have one to give to you. I apologize.”

“No, it’s okay,” Henry reassured him. “I know you… don’t really have anything right now. But that’s okay!”

Afanasiy chuckled. “You are so kind. You remind me of my own son, my little Mechislav. Now, what is this?”

There was the gently tearing of paper and then the scrap of cardboard upon cardboard. “…would you look at this. A tablet.”

“It has a ton of books on it,” Henry said. “You said you liked cookbooks and romance novels and stuff, so I looked for as many as I could, and I got them for you.”

There was a long pause on the other side of the door. In fact, a feeling of nervousness started to twist his gut. Was it a bad present? Did Afanasiy not actually like those things? Finally, the man croaked. “You are too kind, Гудчайлд. This was more than I could have ever expected. Your parents are very lucky to have had…” There was another pause, though this one was only long enough to take a breath. “–very lucky to have you.”

Henry grinned. “I’m glad you like it! I’m sorry I can’t bring you to your own family or let you outside, but I hope this makes you feel better. Merry Christmas! D-do you still want to talk about stuff?”

The man chuckled. “Merry Christmas, Гудчайлд. Yes, I would like to talk. What gifts did your parents give you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas traditions are a little different when you compulsively steal stuff, unfortunately. But, hey! Henry's in the Toppat Clan, now! He'll be just fine.
> 
> I based the spider's design on the _Universe Spider_ or whatever I end up calling it. (Void Spider??) A difference is the Void Spider is black with a rainbow abdomen. This one just has a black body with a cool colored abdomen and gems/stones for legs. I had a whole story outlined and characters drummed up and just... nothing came from it, unfortunately. >< So I decided to put the Void Spider, Void Wasp, and the ravens of prophecy (Salvia and Poppy) and the White Stag as Easter eggs or red herrings. So if you see any talking ravens or a white stag, blame that. lol


	19. Game of Deception

So, Henry wasn’t overly fond of Katie, but he didn’t _dislike_ her. Katie ended up staying at the airship past New Years Day, so Henry knew they’d keep her. Ever since, if Katie wasn’t watching her mother with her plants and herbalism, she was following Henry around. Evidently, plants weren’t that exciting. When Henry complained, all he got was “Don’t talk like that. She wants your help. It’s important to help fellow Clan members,” from Dad Reginald and “Kid, you can’t get rid of ’em that easily,” from Uncle Right.

Everywhere Henry went, he had Katie following behind like a duckling and there was absolutely no one–perhaps except for Carol, but she probably can’t be nice to kids, or Burt or Sven who were apathetic or perpetually annoyed with his presence respectively–who didn’t find this cute or funny in some way. Well, Henry didn’t find it cute and his opinion should matter because he’s the one being followed everywhere! When he asked Howie after finally shaking her off in their room, Howie simply said, “Make the best of the worst. Get ta know her, ya might like her. Or the advantages of havin’ a little siblin’.” Henry… didn’t know what that meant.

That was, until one fateful day in early January.

Henry crashed headlong into one of the crates in the warehouse. Henry pulled himself out of the box, only to look down in horror at the broken valuables within. Vases or cups or something? He didn’t know but what he _did_ know was he would absolutely get chewed out for it. Now, Henry might have been able to get away with it; slip into a vent and appear somewhere completely different and follow around another adult looking to learn something. But Katie was _right behind him_ having watched Henry jump the self-made ramp over the Tank in a Box to show off. That and no one else would just smash a box and leave it.

Henry turned around and looked at Katie, summoning as much seriousness as he could possibly summon. “Katie. Two things: One, don’t do this. Two, we gotta get out of here.”

Katie nodded.

Henry folded his scooter and out the two skedaddled. Henry ducked into his room to put away his scooter but was soon in the hallway again, cutting through a mostly unused hallway that would eventually lead into the Bay. He opened a vent and, putting a finger to his lips to signal to Katie to not speak, crawled into one. Katie followed, eyes bright and grin wide. They eventually made it into one of the storage rooms, having cut across multiple hallways. Henry and Katie crawled out of the vent and then went to walk further in.

“Henry!”

Henry froze, wincing upon hearing Dad Reginald’s voice. Henry turned around, hands behind his back to face Dad Reginald, who looked to have seen the product of Henry’s failed trick himself.

“Henry Stickmin, what did I tell you about playing with your scooter inside the airship?” he snapped. “I’ve told you time and again that you will break something, and you have.”

Henry stammered. “I-I wasn’t–I didn’t do it! I wasn’t even in the, um,” _Dad Reginald didn’t tell you where it broke._ “–wherever that broke!” _Smooth._ “I was by this storage place, like, all afternoon.”

Katie chipped in, “Yeah, Henry was telling me a really cool story about being with his friends.”

Dad Reginald looked at Katie, deflating a little. “You were with Henry in this storage all afternoon.”

“Yep!”

He narrowed his eyes. “Well, the storage room and the Warehouse are in different sides of the ship.” Dad Reginald sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, then. I’ll need to investigate further. Henry, I apologize for jumping to accusations too quickly. Run along and play.”

Henry watched in faux concern as he left. Silently thanking Howie for all the great lessons in controlling the emotions he portrayed, he turned to Katie. “You really didn’t tell on me?”

“Nope!” Katie grinned. “Because I’m cool.”

So, not only did Henry have a walking, talkie alibi, but now he looked even better when people saw him interacting with her properly? Not only that, but he could bounce dumb ideas off her and, though her ideas were usually dumber, she wouldn’t try to correct him or give him a look like he _did_ something dumb. She was small enough to help him map out the vents and, at the same time, never say a word against it.

Maybe being an older sibling had some merit, huh?

Christmas break did not last forever. Soon, he, Howie, and Katie were in school. Katie went to school somewhere way further east, so she wasn’t going to be going to the same school district as Howie and Henry any time soon. But with school came Charles and Ellie. With Charles and Ellie came time to hang out after school. This time it was outdoors at a park. Howie was somewhere nearby, having been put in charge of the trio. But they weren’t riding on their bikes and scooter or climbing on the equipment, though Henry sort of wanted to do so. Instead, Henry, Charles, and Ellie sat around a table, waiting. Ellie asked, “So, what game you were thinking of?”

Henry said, “Howie has a game in mind.”

Just then, Howie strolled up, a deck of cards in his hand. “Alright, kidlings. Ah’m gonna teach y’all how ta play BS. Ah’m calling it that so yer parents don’t kill me.”

Ellie and Charles gave him a weird look.

Howie sat down between Henry and Ellie. “Now, to win this game, ya need ta get rid of all yer cards. Whoever has an empty hand first, wins. You can get rid of one to four cards a turn… or more, if you’re sneaky. Ya see, everyone needs ta put down a certain card. First person puts down aces, second puts down twos, third puts down threes. After kings go aces. When it’s your turn, put down yer card. That simple.”

Charles asked, “What about if we don’t have that card?”

Howie shot a finger gun at him. “That’s the fun part. Ya see, puttin’ down the right cards is only part of it. If ya don’t have the card, ya just put down a card an’ lie an’ say ya put down the right one. It’s everyone else’s job to decide if you’re lyin’ or not. Then, if someone suspects you’re lyin’, they call ya out an’ have to reveal the cards ya put down. If you were indeed lyin’, then ya take back yer cards plus everythin’ that was put down. But if you were tellin’ the truth, whoever accused ya takes the cards. Everyone got that? Good. Now, does that sound fun?”

Henry asked, “Are you going to be playing?”

“Oh, Ah think Ah’ll let y’all play first. It’d be unfair, since Ah’ve played b’fore.”

Henry set down a queen and a five. “Two fives.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes. Charles looked between them. Ellie asked, “Charles? What do you think?”

Charles shrugged. “I don’t know! He was telling the truth the last three times!”

Ellie hummed and looked at her own cards. “Well, that’s the thing, Charles. He was telling the truth all those times I called him out. But he looked like he was lying, was the thing. Now he doesn’t look like he’s lying!”

Howie snorted and put a hand to his mouth. “’Pologies, Ah didn’t mean ta laugh. This is fun game. Go ahead, Ellie?”

Ellie tossed him a puzzled look and then turned back to Henry. “…okay, so, Charles, you saw him just now, right? He looked so innocent. Like, he was definitely telling the truth.”

“Yes?”

“That means he’s lying!”

“Ellie, I don’t kno–”

“I’m calling you out!” Ellie slammed her hand on the table, causing the pile of cards in the center of the table to shiver.

Henry sighed and started to take the cards–the five on top and then a five he set down last round–when Ellie held up her hand. “Nope!”

Henry paused and gave her a weird look.

“Charles, you do it.” A wide grin Henry knew too well spread across her features.

Charles shot a glance at Howie, who nodded, and plucked the top two cards off the top of the pile.

“I knew it!” Ellie exclaimed. “You’re just like my aunt, Henry. She always makes herself look like a liar when she’s telling the truth.”

Howie chuckled. “She figured that out right quick, Henry. She’s a sharp one!”

Henry stuck his tongue out at him and picked up his cards. _Charles was so lucky; he was a terrible liar, but always got the good cards. Well, now, Henry had a bunch of four-of-a-kinds, including fives._

Charles put down his cards. “You’re both really good at this game.”

“Three sevens. Yeah, I’m a bit of a natural.”

 _A natural at losing_ , Henry couldn’t help but think to himself as he set down his last card, an ace of spades.

Howie picked up the cards and shuffled them. “Ah’m so happy y’all are enjoyin’ this game. It’s a blast. And Ah like teachin’ ya ta lie, that’s the truth of it. ’Nother game or do ya’ll want to play somethin’ else?”

Ellie claimed, “I could go for another game. Why don’t you join us?”

“Me?” Howie echoed. “Ya sure about that?”

“Yeah.”

Charles nodded. “I, uh, think that would be nice.”

Henry gave Ellie a weird look but nodded.

Howie shrugged and dealt the cards to them. “If ya insist. Alright, who has the ace of spades?”

“Me,” said Charles.

Henry shuffled his cards into the right places. So, he’d be set for a while. Charles had aces, Ellie twos, Howie threes, Henry fours, Charles fives, and Ellie sixes. Man, four was a _lot_ more than three when it came to the pattern of the game.

When it came to playing, Howie didn’t usually out Charles at first, instead allowing Ellie or Henry to do it. But if or when neither accused him of lying–which Ellie _never_ did, and Henry always felt a little bad about–Howie would step in. “You’re a good kid, Charles,” Howie said as Charles picked up the rather thin stack. “That makes it even better. Ya gotta believe your own lie if ya want ta get away with it. Stick to yer guns, too. The moment you slip up, any good liar or sharp mind will pick up on it. Don’t give up the moment someone calls ya out. Stay confident, make them double-guess themselves or call them out on their bluff. Also, sneak an ace under the seven so when ya pick up yer cards, it’ll be harder ta tell.”

Howie was a good sport, so rather than celebrating his own victory, he’d always give a critique of the trio and offer another game, giving them the choice of including or excluding him. But Henry knew that the bell could not be un-rung. They were going to find a way to beat Howie. A silent agreement went up between Henry and Ellie as they sat across from each other.

Unfortunately, their task was not small. Howie claimed to have lived years prior to his adoption learning to lie from both his previous family and out of necessity. How controlling one’s emotions and being able to see and manipulate the emotions of others was more than game at one point in life, it was his survival. Henry had only been learning from him for three quarters of a year by this point, making his ability to read him slightly easier but still rather difficult. That was especially true since Henry’s shtick was picked up so quickly by Ellie and Henry had to find another routine on the spot.

Howie set down a couple of cards. “Those’re two sevens.”

Henry narrowed his eyes. “Two sevens and what?”

Howie raised an eyebrow. “What do ya mean by that, little buddy?”

“I saw you set down a third card!” _Howie had the exact amount of cards in his hand he claimed._

Howie smirked. “Really? Ya sure Ah did, huh?”

“You saw him set down three cards. Ellie?”

Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed. “I…” her eyes widened. “I did! I think you did.”

Howie looked between them. “Two ta one, huh?”

Henry stated, “Actually, I think I’ll skip this one. Ellie?”

Ellie gave him a puzzled look but complied with a single eight. Henry watched Charles, praying that he was right, and Charles did have the correct cards. Aaand yes! He did! So, when Howie put down his cards after Henry, Henry claimed, “Now I’m calling you out! You couldn’t possibly have three kings.”

“Oh?” Howie prompted.

“I knew you were going to land on kings,” Henry claimed. “And I know for a _fact_ that there are _two_ kings in that deck. There can’t be five kings in a single deck.”

“That’s true, li’l buddy,” Howie replied with a small nod. “Ya can’t have five a’ any one card. But, know that there are a few Jokers in this game.”

Henry narrowed his eyes and glanced at the stack. _Of course Howie played with jokers. Henry had seen them once or twice, true. He didn’t know how many were in the deck or Howie’s hand, and that was a_ lot _of cards if Howie wasn’t bluffing._ “…I still think you’re bluffing.”

“Ya sure?”

Henry brightened. _Ha! Trying to make him double-guess himself!_ “Positive!”

“Welp, ya got me, little buddy.” Howie turned over the top three cards. There were two kings and one was the queen Henry was missing. “I should tone down that trick around you, huh, Henry?”

“Probably,” Henry said with a chuckle as Howie now picked up the deck. Ellie gave him a thumbs up and Charles looked between the three of them, confused but excited and then confused about even that.

Henry’s last two cards were a three of diamonds and a three of spades, which Ellie incorrectly called out. Henry ended up losing another match after that, but nothing could dampen his spirit. He beat Howie at a game about deception, and that was an achievement he was taking to his grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA When Henry learns what it's like to be an older sibling.
> 
> BS was one of my favorite card games. Actually, it still is. Tied with a couple of others. It's hilarious because I'm an awful liar. I end up losing frequently, but it's a fun game. So I thought I'd add it here! Howie teaching them to lie was just so funny to me. He'd be the best older brother and influence for those future upstanding citizens.


	20. Walled Off

Henry opened the door to the Brig as quietly as possible, though he knew no one was near enough to hear them. It was night, hours after lunch when Afanasiy asked for them to meet him after the lights went out. Henry hadn’t seen Dad Reginald or Uncle Right at all after dinner but, when Henry visited the Bridge looking for them, Thomas gave him a pat on the head and some reassurance. So, they were alright, Henry just didn’t see them. He led Katie inside but didn’t close the door. Instead, they walked up to Afanasiy’s cell. “Hello?” he whispered.

“Henry!” Afanasiy’s voice came in reciprocation. “It’s so good to hear you.”

Henry grinned. “It’s really nice to talk to you, too!”

At this, the man chuckled. “You are so funny, Гудчайлд. Do you remember why I asked you to come here?”

Henry nodded. “Yep!” He hesitated. “Well… sorta.”

“You have been the best friend I could ask for, Гудчайлд,” Afanasiy said. “But I have not done very much for you. I would like to remedy that. Гудчайлд, I do not have anything for you here. But I would love for you to meet my son. What do you think about that, Henry?”

Henry gasped. “Really? I can meet Mechislav?”

“Oh, yes! Definitely! But I need your help, Гудчайлд.”

Henry tipped his head. “What do you mean?”

“I cannot help you here,” Afanasiy explained. “I wish to see my son as well, but I cannot from here. If you open the door, Гудчайлд, I can bring you to him.”

Henry thought for a moment. “Oh. Um… you’re a prisoner, though. If I let you out, they’ll get really mad at me.”

He heard a low _hmmm_ from Afanasiy. “Well then, it’ll just have to be our little secret, huh? I won’t tell anyone what you did, I promise.”

Henry shifted his feet. “But… if you’re gone, they’ll find out, won’t they? You won’t need to tell them.”

“I’ll come back before anyone’s the wiser,” Afanasiy reassured him.

The boy asked, “If I let you out, we can meet Mechislav and then you’ll come back?”

“Yes, Гудчайлд. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble, after all.”

Henry hummed and then nodded. “Okay. Okay! I’ll be right back. Katie, you can stay here and talk to Afanasiy for a little while.”

Katie looked up at Henry and then nodded. “Okay!” She sat down. “What do you wanna talk about, Mister?”

Henry slipped out of the Brig and quietly made his way up through the vents to the security room. From there, he just needed to swipe the little golden key from one of the drawers and come back the way he came.

Henry hadn’t been in the Brig a moment before the key was in the lock and the door was open. He pulled it back and sucked in his breath. Standing before him, stuffing something in a pocket inside his coat was Afanasiy; a scruffy man wearing the furry, dark gray suit of the intruders all those months ago. A red and yellow triangle symbol was stamped on his chest and his hat. His left eye was permanently shut, looking almost mangled. Suddenly, a feeling of apprehension crept up on Henry.

Katie squeaked and hid behind Henry.

“Hey, do not be frightened.” Afanasiy got down to one knee. “I apologize if I scare you, little one. I do not wish to do so.”

Feeling Katie’s fear, Henry stood up straight and patted her arm behind his back. “It’s okay, Katie. Afanasiy’s my friend! Um… how did you hurt your eye?”

“It was accident long ago,” Afanasiy said. “Your Toppat friends did not do this to me, but it made it easier for them to catch me. Come, Гудчайлд. Do you know where one of those escape vehicles are?”

“The escape pods?” Henry echoed. “Yeah! Come on!” With that, Henry turned around and left the Brig, Katie holding his hand and Afanasiy behind them. It didn’t take long for Henry to find one of the “elevators” at the end of a hallway. Henry stopped and took Katie’s hand in his other, accidentally running his fingers under his bracelet as he did so. “It’s okay, Katie. You can let go of me.”

Afanasiy stood in front of a set of automatic doors. “So, this is it?”

Henry nodded. “Yep! Look!” He stepped forward and pressed a button on a small panel next to the doors. It opened to reveal the inside of an escape pod.

Afanasiy hummed and stepped inside. “Well! How do I use it, Гудчайлд?”

Henry stepped inside and pointed to the buttons panel. “There you just need to type in where you want to go. That button will shut the door and then it will launch. To call it back to the ship, you just need to press these two buttons.” He pointed to a couple of buttons on the bottom of the escape pod’s panel. “There’s also a place here for automated places. Like if you wanted to program it to go to a certain hospital ahead of time! But, um… we didn’t plan this ahead of time.”

“Thank you, Гудчайлд. Come, come! I know where to go.” He gestured for Henry and Katie to get inside. Henry walked in, but Katie stayed in the hallway.

“I… I dunno…” Katie mumbled, shifting her feet. “Mom said not to trust strangers and…”

From the hallway, they could hear footsteps rapidly approaching–two pairs and without shoes.

Henry poked his head out, staring down the hallway. Did something happen…? Why were they running? It couldn’t be the night watch; the night watch wore shoes. Did someone wake up?

“Come on,” Afanasiy encouraged, his tone a little high in stress. “It’s okay, Katie. I am Henry’s friend. I won’t hurt you. Right Henry?”

“Huh?” Henry looked up at him. “O-oh! Yeah. It’s okay, Katie.”

Katie looked between them, swaying on her feet a little. “I… trust Henry. But…”

The footsteps were louder, now. They’d turn the corner any second.

Then, Afanasiy lunged, grabbed Katie, and pulled her into the escape pod, a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

“Hey!” the yell was automatic from Henry. “Wh-what–?”

Just then, as Afanasiy yanked Henry back and slammed shut the escape pod with his elbow, Henry saw Dad Reginald and Uncle Right, both in their night clothes and both armed.

“Hen–!” Dad Reginald’s voice became muffled through the doors of the escape pod.

Then, they could see the stars and moonlight filtering into their window.

Henry stuttered, trying, and failing, to say or do anything. What was he supposed to do? Afanasiy was his friend! But Dad Reginald and Uncle Right looked so stressed. And Afanasiy just shut the door on them! And he grabbed Katie! Who, for the record, was still struggling in Afanasiy’s grip. Afanasiy said rather quickly, “Stop struggling, girl! Hush!”

Henry grabbed onto his arm and tried to yank him back. “Let go! You’re gonna hurt her!”

“No, I won’t,” Afanasiy countered, his voice much harder than it was before. “Shut it, kid!”

Henry shook his head. “No! I-I changed my mind, I don’t wanna go.” He tried to go for the return button, but Afanasiy grabbed his arm and pushed him back so he was against the wall.

“No. Stay.”

Henry struggled against him, but the man was much stronger and older than Henry and so there was really very little he could do. “No! You’re supposed to be my friend!”

“I am,” Afanasiy said, his voice a little gentler. “I take you and Katie to place where you will be much happier. Just like other little criminal kids. You already know your way around BB gun, so you learn very quickly how to shoot. You are older than new children, but you will do.”

Henry swallowed, trying desperately to control his thundering heart. Everyone who talked about the Wall said that anyone who was caught there never escaped. Henry was going to be like Cool Joe; he’d go to the Wall and then he’d never return, and they’d never be able to find him! He wouldn’t get to see Dad Reginald or Uncle Right or Howie or anyone ever again.

“Stop that,” Afanasiy scolded, throwing a short glance at Henry but mostly concentrating on the world outside. Henry whimpered and rubbed his wrist against his eyes.

A century later, the pod slowed and lowered itself to the ground.

By this point, Afanasiy had let go of Katie, who cried and held onto Henry as if the moment she let go he’d disappear. Henry couldn’t blame her; she was just a little kid. Henry wanted to cry, too, because he was afraid, but Katie was even more scared, and he had to comfort her and tell her it was okay. But he was afraid if he started talking, he’d start crying and he couldn’t do that, so he stayed quiet. He was good at staying quiet, anyway.

Afanasiy opened the door to the pod and an intense cold rushed in. Katie held on even tighter, huddled up against Henry to get away from the freeze.

Afanasiy took Henry by the arm and guided him outside, where his shoes crunched into the ice and snow and little snowflakes fluttered in the icy wind. They weren’t outside for long before the guard standing by a set of doors opened the door for them. When the trio got inside, the guard followed them. Despite the warmth of the hallway, he couldn’t shake off the chill.

They were guided down the hallway and then into an elevator until they reached a large room cluttered with beds. A door was on either side of the hallway, perfectly opposite. Both were lined with beds and had dressers. One had boys and one was for girls. However, when one of them attempted to nudge Katie into the girl’s room, she wailed not unlike an alarm.

“Тише, тише! Не кричи,” urged the guard.

“Katie,” Henry said, patting her arm. “Katie, it’s okay. You can stick with me, I’ll protect you.”

Katie quieted and nodded, burying her face in his shoulder. Henry gently pulled her into the room, where every soul was now awake and looking at them. Henry forced himself to keep moving, to follow the guard to one of the empty beds, despite the anxiety that tried to force his body to stay still.

“You stay here,” the man instructed, pointing to the empty bed. Henry reluctantly obeyed. Katie whimpered when she thought he was leaving him, but quieted and immediately crawled into bed with him, trembling and sniffling.

Soon enough, the guard was gone. The other children there eventually stopped watching them, none of them having even left their beds. As Henry looked around, squinting in the dark, he managed to pick out a dozen young boys, few older than Katie, and many more empty beds. The memory of the orphanage, too small and underfunded to allow the boys to have individual rooms, crawled into his mind.

He looked to the door. Obviously, it would be guarded. At the very least, there would be people watching it. Henry’s eyes searched the walls and floor and ceiling. A few vents were in the ceiling. Unfortunately, there was no way he’d get up there on his own, much less carry Katie up. None of the beds were tall enough. There were a few boxes and dressers, but he didn’t trust them at all. A door was to one end of the room, but there was a bathroom symbol on it.

Hmm…

Well, there was only one exit door. So, unless he could get one of the boys to lift him and Katie into the vents, there was only one way out.

Henry waited until he could hear the rest of the kids’ quiet breaths grow calm and some turn to snores. Katie had relaxed enough beside him to fall asleep. Henry quietly slipped from the bed. As he moved, Katie woke. Henry put a finger to the girl’s lips. Katie stopped moving and, when Henry let go, nodded.

Henry crept across the room to the dressers. Nothing but indoors clothes. However, there was a closet where quite a few heavy coats hung. Boots and gloves lined the wall. Henry grabbed one of the smaller ones and held it out for Katie and then put one on himself. The coat and boots and gloves he gave the little eight-year-old hung off her a few sizes too big. Unfortunately, Henry couldn’t find anything smaller, so she was just going to have to do with that. Besides, what was the harm of a coat that was just a little too big? He managed to pull out a purple scarf and a couple of caps. With a fuzzy cap and the scarf wrapped around her neck, Katie all but disappeared into the clothes. He could see a pair of eyes, but nothing else. They fit Henry a little better, thankfully.

Henry leaned down next to Katie and whispered, “Don’t make a sound, but follow me, okay? It’ll be scary, but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Katie nodded and huddled deeper into her clothes.

Henry took a deep, calming breath and approached the door. Just then, as he moved, he looked up at the vent above the corner. On second thought, there was a dresser right under it and, if there was a rope or cable or ladder inside the vent, Katie could throw it down for him.

Then, time seemed to stand still, and a sudden calm fell over him. That presence he felt when he was in danger, it had come back to him, appearing at his side, unwilling to get involved but lending him a clear enough mind to think.

Henry had a choice.

He could bust through the door, put down whatever guard was there, and make a run for it, or they could try sneaking through the vents. Both came with their risks; neither were guaranteed, after all. Even if there was a rope in the vent, unless there was something Katie could tie it to and she managed to find a way to tie it to something that wouldn’t break, Henry might not be able to follow. If he busted down the door, he’d alert everyone and might not even get out. Instead, he could be captured and put somewhere else–like an actual jail cell, and then Katie would be alone. Or he could go to sleep and wait for tomorrow to see if there was a way to escape there. But even that wasn’t guaranteed as they would be guarding him. No one who was sent to the Wall ever came back.

* * * * *

He thought he was ready for this, but he wasn’t. Chief Reginald lived as a Toppat for years, first joining just after turning nineteen. He’d been young, but he was very quick and eager to show his talent and skills in leadership, persuasion, manipulation, and his determination. He was at first determined to do himself well, but as he settled into the Clan, his determination to do well extended to the Clan’s wellbeing. But ever since the beginning he knew beinga Toppat was dangerous; raids could go wrong, planning go awry, a wrench could be stuck in their plans. Anything from some executive or senior in the Clan screwing up to unforeseen obstacles or consequences could lead to capture or death. Potentially, Reginald’s own capture or death. So, he’d come to terms with this fact. He gained friendships and respect with deep roots despite knowing that any day one of those faces he’d come to know could disappear forever.

So, why hadn’t Reginald been prepared for this?

Henry was gone, now. They had done a sweep of the ship, but a quick check of the Brig led to Geoffrey confirming Reginald’s fear. _Henry and Katie were taken to the Wall._ There was no other explanation that made sense. Their prisoner had been a Wall guard who definitely had it out for the Toppats, or at least Henry after the boy shot out his eye. Reginald had heard the rumors of children from families of criminals being snatched straight out of their beds and taken to the Wall to be “retrained” or “rehabilitated,” the words being practically interchangeable to whomever told the story. But he’d assumed those were just stories, perhaps created by the Wall itself to strike fear into criminals, as if their haunting reputation as being the most secure prison on Earth wasn’t bad enough.

No one escaped the Wall.

Cool Joe was gone, as were half a dozen members Reginald had met since his initiation into the Clan, three of whom, excluding Mr. Cool, captured because of Terrence’s love of the thrill of danger. In fact, were it not for Terence’s recklessness, the man wouldn’t have been taken aboard in the first place! …Reginald knew the blame was on him when it came to his lackadaisical treatment of the prisoner’s presence. Of course Henry would “befriend” the man, and the man would con the young boy into helping him escape. Children were so easy to manipulate.

Now, Reginald paced in the Bridge. He’d changed into actual clothes, which was admittedly easy as his missing nightclothes had been messily thrown back on. To think, had Reginald and Right Hand Man been more alert or ready to move, this might not have happened. Both had the corresponding bracelet that received Henry’s device’s signal. Any time it activated, it would give the location and a shrill alert. It alerted them when Henry pressed it just before his capture. But now, even if it warned them again, would they be able to answer its call? They had a rough layout of the Wall, but Reginald had thought their kid-stealing a myth just hours ago. Where would they even look?

“Reg.”

Chief Reginald didn’t stop his pacing, but he did throw a fleeting look at his right hand. The man was just as stoic and difficult to read as ever. But he didn’t stand as straight as he usually did, and he wasn’t as alert. Chief Reginald empathized. Actually, who didn’t? What with the ruckus Chief Reginald had drummed up after the pod left at ten, very few actually felt like going back to sleep. Chief Reginald tried eating breakfast, but he’d gotten physically ill and so he skipped that.

Reginald was jarred from his thoughts again, this time as Right Hand Man took his shoulder. “Reginald.”

He looked up, meeting Right Hand Man’s gaze. Chief Reginald sighed. “I know. I _know._ No one has the faintest idea where to look first, other than assuming the kids are at the Wall and not anywhere else on this planet. I can’t fly this airship back to the Wall without risking everyone’s necks. Even if he _was_ there and we _did_ get there, we don’t know where they were put. We don’t even know–” He cut himself off. _No. That wasn’t true. As long as no one thought it, as long as no one voiced the concern, they could believe otherwise. They could_ know _otherwise._

Chief Reginald ran his fingers through his hair, disturbing the two hats he wore–the first belonging to him, the second to the dethroned leader whose coup Reginald had created by latching onto the circumstance and whipping up the crowd with facts and logic spurred by his own breaking point. A breaking point aided significantly by the thought of losing Henry. “God, Right Hand Man,” he all but muttered. He knew he shouldn’t be showing this stress and weakness. It would do nothing but harm on the morale and courage of his fellow Clan Mates. In fact, even Oldmin currently stationed in the Bridge was fidgeting. The man never did that, even being as quiet and reserved as he was, he normally took stressful situations with a cool head. Thomas worked hard in his station, looking over the reports of yesterday’s high traffic with Oldmin. Thomas liked occasionally throwing a friendly word at Oldmin as they worked, being stationed so close together. That did not happen today.

Right Hand Man slowly, hesitantly, shook his head.

So that was it, then? Henry and Katie were just… gone? No, Reginald couldn’t leave it at that. Henry still had his wristband. The slippery kid got into and out of trouble constantly. Being abducted wasn’t a danger the boy had ever been through, of course, but that didn’t mean he was helpless. He fought off that man once, he could do it again. Even if he couldn’t, he could find a way to run off. He could contact them, tell Chief Reginald where he was. Then they would swoop in and grab the two and fly out as quickly as they could. The airship wasn’t the fastest flying object–in fact, they could easily be outstripped by most any military helicopter–but it certainly wasn’t frail. Besides, the Wall had ground vehicles and a singular ship as well as a helicopter _pad_ , but the chief hadn’t heard of them owning much of an air fleet.

Chief Reginald shut his eyes tight and bit his tongue. He felt an arm around him, and another hand wrapped around his own. Chief Reginald buried his face in Right Hand Man’s neck. God, he wanted to just… stay there. To break down and huddle somewhere dark and quiet, to be held by him. But he knew he could not indulge himself like that. He was the chief. A scared leader led a scared crew. A grieving leader did not lead at all.

The air was already cold and thick and electrified. Yes, there was always the chance of death or capture during a raid or ambush or any heist. But in all of the above cases there were enemies from whom they could either gun down or flee, traps to disarm or crawl out of. But this wasn’t an enemy _anyone_ could fight. This was a capture in the middle of the night from a foe they didn’t detect. The airship wasn’t invulnerable, but intruders were not likely to stay hidden for long and the way the airship was planned, any enemy could be surrounded within minutes. This wasn’t predictable, they weren’t ready for it. It was sudden and scary. The friends that were taken were not adults who might be able to release themselves from capture or sit in a cell and wait to be rescued. These were _children_ , one a boy raised among them all and the second a girl who hadn’t yet reached double digits. Their foes were no longer enemies to be evaded in a complex to avoid, but _monsters_ who would steal _children_. If they had the wherewithal to steal children, the will to watch their charges die or suffer like animals, what did they have the will to do to a young boy and girl belonging to the very criminals they swore to destroy? At least if they had a ransom, the Toppat Clan could do _something_. If they wanted the children dead, the prisoner would have killed them rather than slow himself down kidnapping them.

Chief Reginald let go. He couldn’t stand there forever, there were things that needed to be done. He sat at the pilot’s seat. Right Hand Man stood behind him, watching Chief Reginald press a few buttons to release the auto-pilot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who were curious as to why "Afanasiy" was checking all the bedrooms in the raid where Terrence was overthrown, here's your answer. The Wall locks up notorious criminals, but it also "saves" and "reforms" children of such criminals.
> 
> Like the Toppat Clan, the Wall gets away with some stuff that they probably shouldn't. For example, The Wall locks up Henry even if he was pardoned by the government. To keep with the pattern of the "four factions" (Toppats, Government, Wall, Unaffiliated) the sorta boot camp was created. The Toppats adopted a few people, there are kids born to people in active duty in the government, and now there's a Wall boot camp.


	21. Presumed Dead

Henry could bust through the door, put down whatever guard was there, and make a run for it, or they could try sneaking through the vents. Or he could go to sleep and wait for tomorrow to see if there was a way to escape there.

Henry had a choice.

Henry set his gaze. He needed to get Katie out of there, and there was no way he was leaving this up to a _maybe_. Time resumed and the quiet sounds of the room were back again. Henry grabbed the pillowcase from his bed and walked up to the door.

Henry opened the door, finding a guard to be standing there with his back to him. Henry immediately kicked the back of the man’s knee and, before he could even make a noise, threw his pillowcase over the man’s head, and pulled it tight around his neck. Henry may be smaller than the man, but a good strike to the throat ceased the man’s fight against him. Now, the man grabbed at his own throat, struggling to breathe. Henry let go and grabbed the man’s handgun. Sure, he’d never actually used one–or even held one–but he was a sharp shot with the BB gun. Even with the knockback from the gun, he could probably land one square shot.

He gestured for Katie to follow and he ran back the way they came. Afanasiy and another guard ran into the hall straight in front of them. Henry turned and bolted, taking Katie’s hand in his free one. They turned a corner, hearing shouts in Russian behind him. Henry stopped upon finding an elevator and slammed the down arrow. Thankfully, the elevator opened immediately, and he and Katie ran in. Henry had hardly gotten inside before the door was shut behind him. He immediately pressed the “плоскость” button.

Katie clung to him again. “Henry…”

“You’ll be just fine,” Henry comforted. “Don’t worry. We’ll get out of this.”

The elevator door opened. He heard a voice over the loudspeaker, one he didn’t recognize. “Attention! Two children, young male and female, have escaped. They were last seen headed toward the surface. Do not make me do this myself.”

Henry looked around. The once quiet surface was buzzing as people now scattered in search of the missing children. He looked down the trail. Not many people were on it, strangely enough. Only one person stood at ready, a sword in his hand. Henry let out a deep breath, watching it fog before his lips in the night chill. He wasn’t about to jump off the cliff, and that mean looking boxer and tank weren’t his best options. They could duck into that building farther away, but where would they go from there?

Henry had a choice.

He darted across the field, his heart beating steadily faster as he was out in the open, Katie running after him as quickly as she could. He hit a button on the building opposite and rushed inside. The door slammed shut behind them. Henry took a deep breath, the warmth of the heater cozy compared to the frozen outside air. It was _incredibly_ dark. There were no light sources in this dark, squat building.

He heard a clunk and a quiet, musical trill like something from a wind-up music box. A light blue glow caused him to flinch, and suddenly eyes and teeth close by and rather high up were briefly illuminated as a light faintly flashed to the music. Katie squeaked and hugged Henry. Henry patted the wall, searching for the keypad.

**It’s not wise to lock yourself in the dark.**

He’d always wanted to use a sword.

Henry handed the gun to Katie as they darted down the trail. The man spotted him, but not before Henry dove for the fancy blue sword. Unfortunately, when he went to hold it toward the man, he could hardly pick it up. The man rolled his eyes and started to grab the walkie talkie on his shoulder. Katie ran forward and kicked him as hard as she could in the groin.

The man collapsed, wheezing.

Henry winced. He dropped the sword, took his gun back, and sprinted toward the big blue van before the gate. Three people blocked the gate, the rightmost one wielding a spear. Henry narrowed his eyes. They needed to get through these three somehow. They could disguise themselves in the snow. The van rumbled quietly, though no one was inside of it. And there was a sandwich nearby?

Henry had a choice.

Henry looked to the van. He’d never driven before, but he didn’t quite like the other options. So, he and Katie jumped in through the driver’s side. “Okay, Katie,” Henry said. “I’ve watched Howie drive before when he let me sit in the passenger seat. There are two peddles down there. See them? The wide one on the left stops the car, and the thin one on the right makes it go. When I tell you to, press the peddle I say to press, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. We’re busting out of here.”

Henry climbed into the seat and stood up straight. He could see perfectly well out of the windshield, good! Now, there was a stick poking out of the middle of the car between him and the passenger seat. A whole bunch of symbols were next to it, depicting different letters. Well… He had no clue what all the numbers meant, but he did know “R” meant “Reverse” and he didn’t want to go backwards. “N” meant “Neutral,” which he learned from Howie. So, only one other choice!

Henry tried to move the stick from the stop position, but it wouldn’t budge. What did Howie do to…? Oh, right! “Katie, press the brake. The left one!”

Katie pressed down on the brake with both gloved hands. _Now_ the stick moved. And, as the stick moved, the car was free.

“Okay, press the gas! The right one!”

Henry yelped as the truck jolted, jumping to obey the sudden speed Katie was asking of it. Off Henry drove, clutching the wheel as hard as he could. He was barely able to spin the van around to charge at the gate. While the left and right guards jumped out of the way, the middle one was not so fortunate as Henry busted through their ranks and the gate. He couldn’t help a laugh as they escaped, driving down the road as fast as they could. The wind whipped past the car and trees zipped by. Suddenly, green, armored cars, one of whom held a guy on a turret, sped after them. The turret one got in front as they outstripped the van.

Henry yelped as the glass of his passenger side door cracked. The passenger in the armored vehicle, popping out of a hatch in the roof, reloaded his shotgun and it went off again, shattering the window. Think, Henry! He had a gun, so he could shoot back. There was a parachute, so he and Katie could jump out. The trail was by a cliff, so he could just crash into the vehicle, sending it over the cliff! Obviously, the people inside wouldn’t make it, but it was them or him and Katie, and Henry knew which one was the right choice.

Henry’s time to make a choice had run out.

The man with the shot gun blew out one of the tires in the van. The vehicle skidded and, when Henry attempted to correct it, forgot to look ahead. The vehicle smashed into a tree at the end of a bend in the road. The airbag went off and everything in the front seat seemed to _explode_.

**Never hesitate when someone needs you!**

Henry lunged for the parachute, slipped on the backpack, and grabbed Katie, who wrapped her body around him to keep from falling, and hopped out the door.

_Fwooosh!_

Jumping out of a speeding vehicle in a parachute was nice and all, he wouldn’t smash into a tree. But unfortunately, that just meant he was slowly falling to the ground. While his van flew down the road, drifting until it smashed into a tree, the other armored vehicles stopped and waited for him and Katie to land. Henry tried to run, but one of the men abandoned his rifle and pulled him up into the air.

**Focus. For your and Katie’s future, stay determined.**

Nope, only one choice ahead of him.

Henry slammed the bigger, heftier van into the armored truck, sending it skidding over the snow and ice and flying off the cliff. Unfortunately, his own van was not magically better at gripping the ice and the speeding vehicle skidded toward the cliff. “Let go of the gas, Katie!”

Katie pulled her hands back.

Unfortunately, momentum was not pleased, and the truck flipped onto its side. Henry struggled to hold onto the wheel as the ground shot beneath him. When the van finally stopped, Henry looked down at the abyss below. Henry sucked in his breath as the van teetered on the edge. His gun fell out the window and down, down, down the sheer cliff below into the rocky shore so far away it landed. The waves lapped at the shore, but Henry knew they wouldn’t hit the water. Even if they did, they couldn’t survive that. No one could. Glimmering behind the passenger seat was a… star?

Henry had a choice.

He looked up.

The trucks stopped as did a long black car.

“I have to say, Henry, I’m impressed. Really, I am,” said the unfamiliar voice from the intercom after the car door opened. A pair of shoes crunched through the snow. Henry looked down at Katie, shivering and huddled deep in her clothes. “You’re the first person to escape the Wall. I was told you would be cunning and skilled, but this? You would make a fine Wall guard, someone who could make a name for himself. This is the end for you. You’ve got two options here, Henry. Stay in there–”

The van groaned as something nudged it. Katie squeaked and started sobbing. Henry could barely hold his own composure as his tears chilled his flushed cheeks.

“–or you return with us back to the complex. What’s it going to be Henry? Will you let your friend die with you as well?”

Henry shut his eyes. There had to be something, _anything,_ he could do. What would Dad Reginald and Uncle Right do? Aside from being the greatest people ever at getting out of situations. He had to surrender, that was it. To help Katie–

Henry’s time for decisions had run out.

“Well that is too bad,” the man admitted. “You two would have been of great value.”

Metal whined as the van finally scraped off the earth and snow and got cut from the stone of the edge of the cliff.

Down into its destruction did the battered van fall.

“Alright, everyone back to work!” commanded the man. Snowflakes had already started to tangle in his stormy gray handlebar mustache and short beard. “I will not forget about this.”

Henry, gripping the rocks at the base of the cliff as hard as he could, Katie tucked into a crevice behind him, looked up and listened as the man retreated. “This is coming out of your paycheck. All of you.”

The cars drove off. Henry looked back at Katie, who was huddled as far into the crevice behind her as she could go. Henry gulped. “Okay, Katie. Wrap your scarf around my neck. I’ll go out and throw it back down for you to use as a rope. Got it?”

Katie nodded, too shocked and scared to make a noise. She pulled off her scarf and wrapped it twice around his neck. The purple cloth whisked in the wind going past them.

Henry gently, slowly, gripped the frozen rocks beside him and made his way up. Years of scaling old bricks and climbing onto roofs don’t fail him now!

Once he hit solid ground, he took off the scarf, tied it around his wrist, and then wrapped it around his hand and held tight. He tossed it over the cliff. “Can you grab on, Katie?”

He felt a firm tug and watched as the taut scarf retreated.

“You’re going to have to trust me and hold on tight. I’ll pull you up, I swear!”

Henry felt another tug, heavier this time. Henry dug his heels into the ground as Katie’s full weight now dangled on the other end. He shakily took a step back and then another, heaving Katie up and over the edge of the cliff. As soon as her feet touched solid ground, she let go and launched herself at Henry, throwing them both down into the snow. “Thank you!” she squealed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“I’m sorry,” Henry breathed, hugging her tight. “I shouldn’t have trusted Afanasiy. It was stupid of me and it nearly got us both killed. Come on, let’s get out of this weather. We need to get home.”

Katie got up with Henry. The two made their way down the road, where Henry could _just_ see buildings through the tumbling snowflakes. He wrapped the purple scarf around Katie’s neck again.

So, being an escaped convict or “recruit” or whatever they had been wasn’t easy.

First, they didn’t have any money, so they couldn’t buy a meal. When they tried to beg for one, they were shooed away from the counter by a tired, grumpy old man. Second, they had no mode of transportation, so Henry had to hop onto a truck bed while the driver wasn’t looking with Katie. Third, they had no identification, so when they got to a checkpoint, he and Katie had to hide under the truck. Fourth, they were tired with no place to rest as the truck driver eventually found them and chased them off.

Thankfully, Henry was a sharp pickpocket and an excellent liar. Summoning every bit of his Toppat training, all the knowledge he gained from Howie and Dad Reginald and Uncle Right and Matilda and everyone who taught him, he watched the towns they passed through. A bit close to someone here, a little something left on a table or atop a car trunk there. He managed to scrounge up enough to buy a single adult meal that he shared with Katie. Unfortunately, the cold and the weird environment made it difficult and he had a few close calls. The fear of knowing he didn’t have Dad Reginald or Uncle Right for backup also caused him to shy away.

He and Katie made their way into a warm, slightly rickety building at the very edge of town. There they were immediately confronted by a whole bunch of people sitting around tables with glasses and bottles, some yelling at each other as if deaf, others laughing, a few yelling _angrily_ at each other, and then a couple asleep at their places. A large, flat-screen TV bumbled on about the news.

Henry shot a nervous look around. Still, he couldn’t be afraid, he shouldn’t, not with Katie depending on him.

So, Henry started toward the bar, but hesitated. If the bartender saw them, he might demand they leave. If they begged for food, they might get thrown out. Or someone could recognize them or what they wore and bring them back to the Wall. Or maybe Henry could be lucky, and they’d let him use the phone.

Katie held onto his wrist, pulling down his sleeve a little. “What are you wearing?”

Henry looked down at her. “Huh?” A glint of metal caught his eye. “It’s my bracelet. Dad gave it to me.” _Wait… his panic bracelet! That’s why Dad Reginald and Uncle Right woke up so stressed and found him so quickly!_

Henry looked back up and leaned over the bar. He could get away with a call, though. …actually, they were still wearing Wall stuff. It was way too cold to be doing otherwise. Henry walked away. Katie, confused but unwilling to speak, followed him. As they walked, Henry squeezed his bracelet as hard as he could.

Henry quietly shut the door behind them.

“Dad Reginald and Uncle Right should find us soon,” Henry reassured Katie. “Now, we need to hide in the meantime.”

Katie nodded, but said nothing.

Henry slipped into the shadows. Sunlight shone high above, throwing the shadows of buildings and giving the snow a blinding gleam. Behind a house, Henry and Katie snuck into an empty, half-rotted crate. Katie lay her head on his side and quickly fell asleep. Henry, who hadn’t dare fallen asleep, even on the truck ride, rested the side of his head on hers and shut his eyes. Maybe… maybe just a few minutes…

Henry and Katie jolted awake at the sound of yelling.

Outside, a woman with a broom yelled something at them, the lid to the sideways crate in her hand. Henry grabbed Katie and bolted. Before they could cross the road to some other hiding place, Henry skidded to a halt. A few armored cars cluttered the road near the bar. Henry backed off beside the building. Thankfully, the angry woman hadn’t followed them.

Henry peered around the corner. Guards searched the bar and the streets. Henry could _just_ make out something about a criminal… an adult. So, they didn’t know he and Katie were there! They probably thought they were dead. The normal amount of people that were usually outside–maybe a handful–were hiding in their houses or the buildings that now held them hostage. So even the residents of the country the complex was situated within didn’t like the Wall? Or they feared it, criminal or not. Henry and Katie weren’t criminals. Maybe the Wall _did_ take children from other families. Though, Afanasiy said he and Katie were criminal children, so maybe they did sneak only into criminal places.

His breath caught in his throat as he heard the far-off _whirr_ of blades. Henry turned around. Looming high above some distance away was the airship. Henry put a hand to his mouth. Dad Reginald found them!

A car growled down the road. Red and shiny, the sunlight high above shone on it and reflected off the snow to gleam over its smooth metal shell. The vehicle pulled to the side of the road, out of sight of the Wall guards.

Henry threw one last glance back. But, before he could guide Katie safely and quietly back, she let out a squeal and darted toward the car. “Mom!” The Witch was one of the first people out of the car. Henry looked back, bristling upon seeing the guards outside snap to attention. Henry bolted, running through the snow as fast as he could. When he caught up to Katie, he grabbed her and kept running.

“Henry! Katie!” The words were softer than the little girl’s but familiar and full of relief.

Henry had only let go of the girl for a moment before he felt a pair of arms around him, squeezing the air from his lungs. “Dad!” he choked out, hugging him back as tightly as he could.

“Come now, inside!” Dad Reginald let go long enough to usher Henry into the car. The doors shut and the car whipped around, speeding down the snowy road as fast as possible. The Wall vehicles were driving, now. Henry, squished between Katie and the door, looked over at the girl, who had taken off her scarf and hat and hugged her mother, attempting to talk but her words lost in her sobs. In the driver’s seat, Henry found Dad Reginald, while Uncle Right took the passenger seat, looking back at their pursuers. “We can talk about what happened when we get back to the airship. Keep your heads down for now!”

Henry squeaked something close to an “Okay, Dad!” before ducking his head and peeking out from the back seat.

The armored vehicles were struggling to get close, but the modified attack vehicles had nothing on the sports car hybrid that could outstrip any other four-seater on the road. Eventually, the cars got so far behind that when Dad Reginald took a turn, they were out of sight completely. There was another turn and a third before they were racing along a short cliff, the airship getting ever closer.

The car stopped and the airship went low. The Bay doors opened and then something hit the car. Henry squeaked as the car tipped back and he held onto the seat as tight as he could as their vehicle was lifted up into the Bay. Henry could see the ground getting farther away and begin to move under them as the Bay doors closed.

They evacuated, Henry immediately shedding the Wall garments he wore, including his boots.

“Henry.” Dad Reginald set his hand on Henry’s shoulder. Henry looked up at him, flinching at the pure emotion the man couldn’t help but show. “What the hell just happened?”

“It’s not Katie’s fault!” Henry blurted out. “I promise! I-I sucked her into this because I was being dumb. I-I trusted Afanasiy and I know I shouldn’t have. I unlocked his cell and told him how to use the escape pod. B-but he tricked me, and we went to the Wall.” Henry rambled on about their adventure and escape. His words were broken by hiccups, but he couldn’t stop talking, even if he tried. The words tumbled out of his mouth like water from a broken dam.

“A-and I forgot all about the panic bracelet until Katie told me about it. I’m so sorry!”

Dad Reginald bowed his head. “God dammit, Henry you worried me–us sick!” He deflated; his anger gone. “I’m happy you’re alive, Henry. Did they hurt you? Are you okay?”

Henry shook his head. “N-no. We r-ran away. I-I stole one of their guns, but I didn’t know how to use it. I mean, I didn’t know how to drive either, technically, but Katie and I managed to do it. Katie’s pretty smart, you really should g-give her like cookies or something, she really likes cookies. Um, but I remembered what Uncle Right taught me, and I figured it out, but I never actually used it because I was driving and then I accidentally dropped it off a cliff. That was pretty scary. But we survived!”

Dad Reginald looked back at Uncle Right. He still showed no emotion, but he wasn’t as firm as he usually was and his eyes were weirdly shadowed.

“I’m really sorry,” Henry whined. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I promise! I-I believed Afanasiy, even though I shouldn’t have. I won’t do it again! I-I mean, trust someone from the Wall, because they’re tricky.”

“Well you shouldn’t,” Dad Reginald stated. “That _will_ be the last time you do that. Thank God you have that wrist band, still.”

Henry nodded vigorously. “I’ll never take it off. Ever.”

Dad Reginald stood up. “Come along, now. You must be hungry.”

“You’re tired,” Henry commented, taking Dad Reginald’s hand as they moved.

“Everyone is a little tired, yes.”

Henry looked down at his feet. He trusted Afanasiy, even though he shouldn’t have. Afanasiy was a prisoner–a Wall guard who tried to kill Henry! He had to have been the one he shot, there was no other explanation. The man was missing an eye for God’s sake, Henry should have seen that betrayal coming from a mile away!

After dinner, Dad Reginald went to pilot the ship. Still a little shaken up, Henry sat in his lap and eventually drifted off to sleep.

Henry refused to leave Dad Reginald’s side so rather than his own bed, Henry slept beside Dad Reginald. That was good, because even when Henry had a nightmare about his capture at the Wall, Dad Reginald was there to wake him up and reassure him. He knew the danger was gone, and Henry would never befriend another prisoner ever so he wasn’t going to be in danger of that, but he still couldn’t help but be afraid. If he and Katie didn’t escape when they did, who knows what would have happened? What if they forced them to become Wall guards and be in a military school? That would be the absolute worst. After all, Dad Reginald barely accepted Charles as Henry’s friend. If Henry went into the government, he might lose his family forever.

The next morning, after breakfast had come and gone, Dad Reginald and Uncle Right didn’t go directly to the Bridge. But instead, they went with Henry went back to Dad Reginald’s room. Dad Reginald and Uncle Right got to sit his bed while Henry sat in Dad Reginald’s desk chair, which was pulled up in front of the bed. Dad Reginald looked a little nervous, which was weird and only made Henry all the more nervous. Was he in trouble? It would make sense after what happened. Henry did lead himself and Katie into danger.

“Henry,” stated Dad Reginald. “You know how Carol and I adopted you, correct?”

Henry’s heart skipped a beat. _Oh no._ “Y… yeah?”

“Well, Right Hand Man was with us,” he went on. “You know that; you did attempt to steal from him. We–Henry! What’s wrong?”

Henry, tears in his big blue eyes, whimpered, “You aren’t taking me back, are you? I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to get in trouble! I didn’t want to!”

“Oh no! No-no-no-no-no!” Dad Reginald reached forward and held Henry’s shoulders. “We would _never_ throw you out like that, Henry. You are our son and that will _never_ change.”

Henry hiccupped and rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “O-okay.”

Dad Reginald sighed. “That… isn’t exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” He let go and sat back. “What I was _implying_ was that Carol and I are not married, nor will we ever be. Right Hand Man and I are not brothers, which you know. We lied quite a bit to that woman, as we told you.” He smiled a little. “We were close friends, I as Terrence’s deputy and he as his third, now I as chief and he as my right hand. But we decided that we would be happier together.” He glanced at Right Hand Man, his smile all the more genuine when the look was mirrored, even if the look was so slight it was hard to see. “As such, he’s already proven to be a second parental figure to you and will officially be one.”

Henry looked between them, his breathing under control once again. “So now…” He narrowed his eyes and a grin spread across his features. “I get to have _two_ dads?”

“Well… yes.”

Henry’s eyes lit up. Wow, this was _so much better_ than being an orphan again! Not only did he get to have two parents, now, they actually loved each other, and Henry knew his second dad as long as he knew his first one! He let out a happy squeak and tackle-hugged Un–Dad Right. The man stiffened, but soon returned the gesture. They were going to have _so much fun_ together! Not that much would change, but still!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henry never let anyone cage him for long. In prison, captured by the government, or thrown into the Wall-Henry couldn't be held down for long. So why would Kid-Henry be any different? I'm still struggling with how to make quick time choices. I'll get there eventually.
> 
> Oh, and the narrator sounds different here. Huh.
> 
> I wrote a sorta FAIL/Alternate Ending to this [here](https://sta.sh/01spp5ie6fyn).


	22. Graduate

Henry liked being a kid. He liked being eleven years old, going out on weekends to learn martial arts or marksmanship. Sometimes they would go out for paintball with Charles and Ellie. Howie wasn’t a kid anymore, and it was evident in how he acted much more mature, how he stopped needing to go to school after graduation, how he was treated with more respect and merit by the other Toppats. He even got his own room, with Henry’s blessing as, though Henry loved having him as a roommate, he figured an adult wouldn’t want a kid roommate. They no longer did chores together, rather Howie having different ones than Henry, and Henry and Katie sharing the kid chores. In retrospect, it was weird that Henry missed cleaning up the cafeteria with Howie.

But childhood doesn’t last forever.

It was Henry who went to high school while Howie went out on raids or planned them or helped with the upkeep of the ship. Howie got a girlfriend soon after graduating high school, and Henry had a few throughout the short years he spent there. By a few, he meant two, both of whom got jealous of how much time he was spending with Ellie and suspicious about how Henry wouldn’t take them to his place. This was during a time when Ellie had a boyfriend of her own who could attest to Henry’s faithfulness. He found it rather ironic when Ellie’s older cousin, Jacob, visited from New Mexico, Henry’s second girlfriend had been all over the blonde college kid despite his protests. Henry was free of her, though, so that was a plus. Well, Henry did get a boyfriend who lasted longer than the girls put together because he didn’t care about going to Henry’s house and he wasn’t jealous of Henry’s two best friends. At least they left on amicable terms. Oh, right, and Henry learned as much as he could in school. There wasn’t a whole lot of extraordinarily useful information, as Dad Right had predicted, but there was some. Henry was fluent in Russian and knew ASL–something he picked up from his deaf ex-boyfriend but kept as Dad Right encouraged him and taught him more about it. Ellie and Charles did not stay as children, either. Ellie’s recklessness had gotten her into trouble with her parents, the school, and even the law a few times. But after finding out that Charles’ parents were considering banning her from visiting their son if she kept it up, well… things changed.

Charles, on the other hand, was ever the policeman of their group. He was adamantly for rules and always, _always_ , without fail, complained if their activities or thoughts were less than lawful. Somehow Charles could read Henry’s mind, that was that and Henry couldn’t dispute it. He started an aviation club in his freshmen year and by the time they graduated, he was the most popular airplane nerd in the district. Why he was a nerd that never got bullied was a question no one asked, of course. Henry and Ellie’s reputation was what put a stop to something so heinous before it could begin. Ellie could threaten, but she also had that girlish charm that morphed into a lady-like class that was difficult to be disputed. Even if it was disputed, she had the muscle and experience, thanks in part to Henry’s lessons, to end it. Henry had no such charm. Well, perhaps he did, but he was also quiet and withdrawn. He was the last in his class to hit puberty, but he also became the tallest at six feet, surprising his relatives as he was now bigger than Dad Reginald and almost as tall as Dad Right. Being smart and strong, but cripplingly shy and anxious and frequently suspected for trouble but rarely convicted of it, people tended to avoid him. Even the Bukowski twins and Joan found their own cliques.

But Henry didn’t worry about that anymore. For, once he graduated, he was a Toppat and no longer needed nor wanted the approval of his former peers. Ellie made her way to a college focusing on stunt work immediately, while Charles went off to an aviation tech school for which he had been approved of in his sophomore year. Henry, like Howie, didn’t require a college education for their line of work. That unfortunately meant that the trio scattered to the winds; Ellie and Charles in different schools and all three working on different career paths. They all three had computers and phones and so talking, texting, and of course game night where they’d gained quite the reputation as being the Triple Threat in the games they played were not out of the question. Still, as Henry logged off a game, Ellie’s victorious laughter ringing in his ears, Henry couldn’t help the heartache that seized him.

…they’d meet up again someday, right? Even if… Charles was not at all shy about his desire to be a government pilot and Ellie’s rambunctious nature was beginning to keep her far away from any root system and Henry officially entered his own line of work. After all, Ellie had planned on being a stunt double but now worked as a mercenary.

The Clan had gathered together after Henry’s high school graduation to claim him as a full member. The navy-blue hat that held on it a little golden H that matched his dark blue suit marked the end of his old life. Henry had respect and skill and cleverness, and his gusto and heart shone when defending his Clan.

Henry was not a school kid in Nevada, play-scouting the desert for hidden treasure or racing his scooter against his friends in a probably dangerous game of chase. Henry was a Toppat.

* * * * *

Henry sat beside Dad Right at breakfast. He’d broken the tradition of sitting between them as a kid to allow Dad Reginald and Dad Right to sit beside each other again. That and Henry had felt he was old enough to not need to hide and didn’t need to always stick close to his father, which is where the habit originated.

As breakfast ended, Henry was quick to his first father’s side. “Dad? I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Dad Reginald paused and looked back at him. “Yes, Henry?”

Henry took a deep breath. “I was thinking. I’ve been on a few missions since I first became a Toppat. I went to middle school and high school with normal kids. And I’ve learned, and am still learning, everything the Clan has to offer. I’ll always be a Toppat, there’s no doubt about that. But I’ve never, well, lived on my own before. Been at my own place or made my own meals, you know? I mean, I sometimes helped with kitchen duty, but you get my point, right?”

Dad Reginald thought on this information. “What are you saying, Henry? That you would like to move out?”

“Well, exactly,” Henry replied. “I mean, sort of? Well, what I mean is that I’d like to know what the world has to offer for me, you know? …yeah, that is dumb, isn’t it? Ah, never mind.”

“’Enry.” Dad Right’s voice surprised Henry out of his awkwardly worded thoughts. “You need experience outside.”

Dad Reginald nodded. “Yes, yes. That _is_ a good point, Right Hand Man. Henry, you’ve learned to live as a Toppat since you were a child. Perhaps it _is_ time for you to learn to live out on your own? It will give you a better understanding of life outside the ship, and an opportunity to learn the complexities of society. After all, you were only ever the visitor.”

Henry smiled at this. “Really? You think it’s a good idea?”

“We will talk it over,” Dad Reginald declared. “In the meantime, keep up the good work you put into the Clan, Henry.”

Henry grinned and nodded. “Alright! Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dad Reginald, Dad Right! I have to meet up with Howie after breakfast anyway. I’ll talk to you, later!”

Henry managed to catch Howie as the man walked toward the Record room. Howie turned around when Henry called his name. A grin that almost matched Henry’s spread across his features. “Do Ah have ta guess?”

“Dad Reginald said they’d talk about it,” Henry explained. “But, yes! It sounded like a yes!”

“Where do ya think you’re headed?”

“Red Mesa.”

“Red Mesa?” Howie echoed. “Ah thought ya were just musin’.”

Henry shook his head. “I have some unfinished business there.”

Howie nodded. “Ah gotcha. Ah won’t pry. Just want ya to know that some things are better left buried and forgotten.”

Henry shrugged. “Yeah. But this? Not one of those things. Thanks for looking out for me, Howie. So, have you ever thought of living on your own?”

“Hell no,” Howie snorted. “Ah didn’t like livin’ on ma own as a kid, don’t want ta do it again. ’Sides, what’re you plannin’ on doin’ out there? Gettin’ a wife and settlin’ down with a few sheep?”

Henry chuckled. “I didn’t think of that. Hah, but no. I’ve just… never lived outside. There’s always been _someone_ in charge of me. Someone telling me where I sleep, someone telling me what to eat, someone telling me when the lights shut off. I know it’s not a fairyland out there. It definitely won’t be as great as living here. I’m just… curious. Besides, I have some pocket change saved up and a place all scouted out.”

“An’ it has nothin’ to do with the fact Ellie and Charles are livin’ in their own apartments, now, does it?”

Henry snorted. “No, of course not.” _Ellie and Charles had gotten their own places, Charles living on an apartment near the base in Nevada and Ellie somewhere in North Carolina. This was her third apartment in the last year, having hopped from place to place sometimes living with family so often they’d jokingly said she should just rent out a hotel room instead._

“And what’s _that_ look for?”

Henry blinked. “What look?”

Howie hummed and then shrugged. “Right. Well, good luck with that, li’l buddy.”

“I’m not little anymore,” Henry pointed out. “I’m taller than you!”

“True. But Ah’m older. And have facial hair.”

“Right. A goatee.”

“Right! B’sides, you’re still mah little cousin, even if ya finally got a few inches on me. Now, how about that little skirmish we were plannin’ with Bill an’ Tony?”

“Oh, yeah! We’re meeting in Records?”

“Yep! Pay extra attention. This might be yer last one for a while, eh?”

_This might be yer last one for a while._

Henry stashed only a little money in his room, having taken most of his savings but wasn’t foolish enough to leave himself broke. Most of his things stayed in his room as well. His first tattered target paper from when he first started learning marksmanship took up quite a bit of the end wall. Photos and memorabilia spanning the years coated his walls. On his bed lay a suitcase, already filled with quite a few outfits, tools, and whatever else he figured he might need. He knew that as soon as he stepped out of the airship, he was not coming back for another few months, until Christmas, he had merrily said, leaving him eight months out in the open.

Henry shut the suitcase and took a deep, steadying breath. In his pocket was his Purse of Holding, containing a few gadgets he gathered through means both legal and non. A few of the gadgets were still in the beta testing, Henry having signed up as a tester for useful gadgets, like a teleporter and shrink ray.

Henry had accounted for everything he had thrice over. He’d eaten his last breakfast with his dads for the time being, said his temporary goodbyes, changed into a beige shirt, gray hoodie, jeans, and tennis shoes, and now it was time to go.

More specifically, it was time to go to Red Mesa.

The airship was over South America at the moment, so the pod that took him from Peru to the United States didn’t take that long. Still, as he watched the airship leave his sight through the window, the minutes felt like an eternity. Something stirred deep in his chest. A sudden desire to turn around, to call off this mission of his, clutched at his chest. The feeling was so sudden and so severe, he held his hand out to the touch pad that would bring him back. But, before his finger could touch one of the buttons, he pulled his hand back. Henry was twenty-three years old, twenty-four in a month. He wasn’t scared. He shouldn’t be. He was an adult.

The pod landed out in the desert. He stepped out into the dust and dirt and looked up to the clear skies. His eyes were shielded from the hot sun by his hand, but nothing else. His top hat was not on his head. Henry turned his attention to the town nearest and made his way on foot.

It wasn’t difficult to get to town. Despite carrying his heavy briefcase, he wasn’t tired. He had worse missions before. This mission wasn’t even under the “bad” category. After all, Henry once carried an entire TV on his own, holding it in his arms like a child grasping an overstuffed toy and toddling after Howie and Tony, who had been a little less ambitious and more realistic with their haul.

Regardless, Henry made it to Red Mesa. He took a turn as soon as he reached the outskirts and walked a path that had since become unfamiliar. Still, deep in his memory, he remembered it. After all, this path was one he walked so often he could take it in his sleep.

As he approached the sagging building mumbling “RED MESA ORPHANAGE,” his eyes passed over the doors and windows and to an alley. Henry smirked. Some time in his childhood, he remembered breaking out of the orphanage through the alley, clutching his scooter and his haul, eager to start a new life away from those ladies and the other children. He got caught and dragged back. Was it twice or three times? Henry had to admit, the alleyway was the best way to go. Though, as Henry approached the building and saw the still-slightly-less-than-broken lock, he figured no other kid caught onto its brilliance.

The air conditioning was a welcome relief. He took a deep breath, basking in the chill for a few moments before willing himself to move forward.

The same lady who asked for Dad Reginald his name and papers still sat behind the desk. There were less papers, now. Maybe they’d finally gotten a better computer or a tablet. Or maybe they got a proper filing cabinet.

The woman looked up as Henry stopped before her. “Hello?”

“Hello,” Henry greeted. “I need some information about a past… resident.” _Hah!_ “Do you keep that information?”

The woman blinked. “Well, we do. But I can’t give away private information.”

“It’s, uh, _my_ information,” Henry claimed.

The woman raised an eyebrow. “You drop off a kid or something?”

He shook his head. “No, no. I lived here a long time ago before being adopted. I’m Henry Stickmin.”

“Henry?” the woman echoed, showing an emotion for the first time Henry had ever seen. “ _You’re_ Henry? Stickmin? Didn’t we get rid of you a few years ago?”

“2000,” Henry corrected, struggling not to adopt a sharp tone. “My parents adopted me thirteen years ago. Anyway, I would like to know what happened to put me into this place.”

The woman stared at him. “I… I’ll call Mrs. Bloodworth. She handles that information.” With that, she picked up the landline on the desk and pressed a few buttons. “…yeah, hello? Mrs. Bloodworth? Henry Stickmin’s back, and he’s looking for some personal information from a while ago. … Yes. Henry. He’s alive. And standing here, obviously not in jail.”

Henry rolled his eyes.

“Okay. Great. … Yeah, sure. I’ll tell him.” _Click_

The woman looked up at him. “She’ll be right back, as soon as she’s done with handling some of the kids somewhere or something.”

“You always did care very deeply for the children here.”

“Caring for the kids isn’t my job,” she pointed out. “The moms and dads that come looking for them or dropping them off are my job.”

Henry was tempted to ask which one he had been, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t know. If he did ask, he might just look hurt by the statement, which he wasn’t.

One of the doors further in opened and there she was. Dressed up like she couldn’t decide whether to be a babysitter or a businesswoman was Mrs. Bloodworth. She gave him one look-over with those sharp brown eyes of hers. The first thing to come out of her mouth was not a greeting nor a confirmation of his name, but rather, “She wasn’t kidding.”

Henry shook his head with a polite smile. “Nope. I’m back and I’m alive. Taken up my dads’ trade in fact. Now, about those papers? I’ve been looking into my previous family.”

Mrs. Bloodworth nodded. “Hmm. Yes, well, we give all the paper we have on a kid to the mom and dad. Didn’t you ask them?”

“Dad said he didn’t have the ones I needed,” Henry stated. “They said nothing about my previous parents. So, I thought I would start my search here. Even if it’s just a few names. You could manage that, right?”

Mrs. Bloodworth scowled. “Well, growing up in a big fancy rich family hasn’t helped with your attitude. Yes, we do keep some things in case the government wants it. No, I won’t release them to you. But you could take a look at them, I suppose.”

“So, you do that for all the kids, or was it just me in case my parents decided I was too much trouble?”

“Sharp as ever.” With that, Mrs. Bloodworth turned and walked further into the building. Henry followed, only vaguely recognizing the path to her office. As a child he used to visit it when she wasn’t there. He’d long since forgotten why, but knowing himself, it probably wasn’t for anything good.

In her compact office choked with decorations clinging to walls with mahogany wallpaper was a filing cabinet. She could barely get it open, but once she did, she was flipping through the folders rather quickly. She fished out a specific folder, shut the filing cabinet, and walked to her desk.

_H. Stickmin_

Henry sat down at the chair before her desk and opened the folder. There was a short biography detailing basic information: name, age, birthday, height, weight, skin color, hair color, hair type, eye color. There was even a short passage under the “Other” category. “ _Quiet, dislikes being held by strangers, not compatible with other children._ ”

Henry took a moment to read over the papers. School reports, disciplinary actions, and even family names from potential adopting families who changed their mind upon interacting with him. Admittedly, that hurt a little. He could understand Mrs. Bloodworth’s surprise, now. Flitting in and out of detention like it was a game. From his faint memories, it probably had been a game to him. After all, why should he care what people thought of him, what “potential buyers” considered him, if he knew they would always be just that: potential?

Henry found himself at the end of the file. Stapled to the inside of the folder were two paper tags. Each held one person: a man and a woman. The curly-haired woman was first. _Officer Calla Mary Stickmin._ Near it: _MIA_. Behind that was the man’s. This portrait was of a man with uncanny resemblance to Henry, though his short hair was as straight as bone. _Captain Kendrick Henry Stickmin_. Near that: _KIA._

“Isn’t that ironic?” Henry mused, flipping between the two pieces of paper. “Two cops, huh? Guess I’ll always have something to do with people in uniform. Heh. Charles and Ellie would get a kick out of this.” He chuckled to himself. “Howie’s never going to believe me.” He took out his phone and took pictures of the two, and then went back and recorded the other papers in the folder. He knew that this was probably illegal somewhere for some reason, but he didn’t care. By the way Mrs. Bloodworth wasn’t interfering, she probably didn’t, either. After all, if he _did_ get arrested, she wouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing it.

Henry shut the folder and stood up. “Thank you, Mrs. Bloodworth. I think I know where my next visit will be. Have fun torturing more kids.”

With that, Henry was gone.

Though, as he started to walk out the door, he hesitated by the front desk. “Hey, you keep a track of where kids go when they _leave_ , right?”

The lady at the front desk nodded. “Yeah.”

“James. Do you know where he went? He was another kid a little older than me. I left before him.”

The woman shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s probably in the paperwork. But it’s not my job to care what happens to the kids. Only to adults who look for them.”

“Jesus Christ, lady–fine. Why don’t I make it your job, then?” Henry held out his hand. She looked up at him and then what held. Her eyebrows raised and she checked over the folded bill in her grasp. “What the f…” She shrugged and pocketed the bill. “Fine, if it will make you leave me alone.”

She got up and entered the room behind her.

Henry less-than-patiently waited by her desk. Eventually, she came back. “James Went. Eh, he grew up and left for his own place.”

“No one adopted him?”

“Who would willingly adopt a gay kid?” she puffed. “Anyway, I remember him a little. He tried staying past eighteen, but this is an orphanage not a shelter.”

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed and he nodded. “Yes, well. Goodbye.”

Henry didn’t remember too many of the kids. There was this trio with a Jessy or Jerry or something in it. They’d been rather cruel, though he remembered their leader, M-something, as being nice. Seeing as Henry’s first experience with Dad Right had been attempting to pick pocket him on a dare, that might have just been a ruse. James wasn’t like them, though. He wasn’t like anyone. He cared for Henry way more than the ladies or any of the other kids. He had been nice, even through Henry’s stunts of running away or stealing things. Henry compulsively stole, a then undiagnosed mental disorder known as kleptomania, and he did it often. But just like Henry couldn’t steal from Charles, he couldn’t steal from James.

James deserved better than to be kicked out as soon as they were able to do so.

So, Henry’s search of two expanded to one of three. The police station would obviously have the records he was looking for about his parents. Maybe someone knew where James went. Though, if James wasn’t a trouble-maker, there would probably be no reason for them to know him.

Henry hopped onto his scooter and down to the RMPD he went. As he sped behind a bus Henry contemplated buying a ticket but decided against it. He liked his scooter.

The police station was on the corner of a busy street, so its wide steps created a corner. Sandwich City sat next to the police station, Henry found. Well, a nice place to eat lunch after everything was said and done.

The air conditioning washed over Henry as he entered the sliding glass doors. He hardly realized how hot it was outside until that point. He saw a few policemen here and there. One or two civilians occupied the space, both being at the front desk. Henry walked up to them, briefcase and scooter in hand. The two at the desk left as Henry approached. “Hello,” he greeted upon meeting the lady. “So, I need to look up some former police officers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone remember James? Pepperidge Farm remembers. _~~Henry really bribes? No dignity.~~_
> 
> Since it's been about 12/13 years since he was adopted, a lot of stuff is really fuzzy. But Jerry and Mason were both bullies, Mason just being manipulative about it instead of aggressive. I know times now are more accepting of the LGBTQ+ community, but it wasn't always that way. Even rumors were bad.
> 
> Also, Henry's anxiety around people does spike a little in high school, but at least he has his friends! Y'all better know that no one messes with Charles without getting a firm correction from Henry and Ellie. Same thing with Henry or Ellie, though Henry was too intimidating to be regularly confronted. Ellie knew how to curb stomp a fool at the same time as be nice and cute. She's as OP here as she was in the canon games.
> 
> Goodbye, childhood. It's like we never knew ya.
> 
> (Edit: His folder says "H. Stickmin" not "1. Stickmin" so changed it. I dunno why it charged "H" of all letters to a number point)


	23. New and Familiar Faces

Henry let out a huge sigh and sat down on the steps outside of the police station, sandwich bag in hand, hoodie off and its sleeves tied around his waist. Okay, so… so maybe he would like to get this done sooner rather than later. Or maybe he would like to just run off and do literally anything else. Maybe rob a bank or something if it would get him away from… this! This bureaucracy and all these hurdles but worst of all, the anxiety. …so, maybe robbing a bank would get him on the wrong side of the people he was trying to talk to. Eh, details.

“Hey?”

Henry looked up. A man sat down next to him; a police officer. A bag proudly proclaiming its origins at Sandwich City was held in one hand. “You’ve been sitting out here a while. Are you okay?”

Henry blinked. “Have I? Oh… well, yeah. I’m just fine.” He opened his bag and brought out his sandwich. “Just having a bit of trouble with the police department.”

“Well, I work at the RMPD,” the policeman offered. “Maybe I can help.”

Henry gave him a small smile. “That’s great, but I don’t know how much you’ll be able to help. I’m looking for some information on a few former officers. I doubt you’d have ever met them, though.”

“Former officers?” the policeman echoed. “Well, how sure are you that I wouldn’t know them? I like making friends around the PD. Though I _am_ rather new to the job.”

Henry chuckled. “Well, they died or went MIA twenty-two years ago.”

The policeman’s eyebrows raised. “Ooooh. Yeah, I don’t think I’ve met them. That’s… why do you want to know? I mean, I could probably ask around once I get off my lunch break.”

“That’s nice. I’ve been trying at the front desk, but they don’t know the adult me. Probably only remember the kid me, huh? Hehe.” Henry took a bite out of his sandwich. Despite having been sitting in its own mayonnaise for a while, it wasn’t soggy and still tasted good. So that was nice.

“What are their names?” the policeman asked around a bite of whatever he’d ordered.

“Officer Calla Mary Stickmin and Captain Kendrick Henry Stickmin,” Henry informed him. “They’re my parents. I’m Henry. I didn’t _know_ my parents were police until this morning. Which is why I tried here.”

The police officer hesitated. “Oh. Uh… sorry to hear that…”

“Nah, it’s fine. I didn’t even know them,” Henry reassured him. “So, what’s your name?”

“Dave.”

“Well, thank you, Dave.”

“Any time, Henry. Say, are you just looking for them?”

“Nope. I’m also looking for a friend I used to have at the orphanage. James Went. I don’t think he’d have had any trouble with the law; he’s a nice guy. I’ll just ask around town.”

“Good idea. I think I remember a Mr. Went…? I think my cousin talked about her daughter being in his class or something. I’d check the school if I were you.”

The two finished their lunches together, chatting about light subjects with little meaning. As they found they were going in the same direction, Henry walked with him to the police station, where Dave had to leave. Another policeman, this one with sideburns, grinned as they met up and walked off together.

“So,” Henry began as he stopped by the front desk. “Can I _please_ talk about Mr. and Mrs. Stickmin?”

“We have a few protocols we need to go through,” said the woman, surprisingly without irritation. “–but if you come back tomorrow afternoon, we might have something for you. Or at least the Chief could find some time to talk to you. Is that alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is. Thanks.” With that, Henry Stickmin was gone.

 _Dave said James might work at the school_. Sounded like James, if Henry was to be honest. The man loved being around children and helping and teaching them. He was a great guy to be around, and Henry was not surprised to find the woman didn’t know who James was, as Henry would be intensely surprised if he found himself in the wrong end of the station.

At the local elementary school, the man behind the desk asked him about a kid, which Henry denied. But he did confirm that James Went indeed worked there. From there it was a simple internet search to find the teacher, who was a former babysitter. Henry didn’t know how much a man would make as a babysitter, as most people trusted their kids with women.

Henry raised his hand and knocked on the front door, plain save for a little tack with a wide board hanging from it. “Well House” was written on it. A multitude of signatures dressed it. One of them, he saw, belonged to James.

As soon as he knocked, there was a flurry of barks and some yelling. The door opened to reveal a man he barely recognized, one foot out to push back the cream and white corgi trying to greet Henry and a little boy in his arm. “Hey!” he puffed, grinning. “Apologies; Lady just wants to say hi. She won’t bite.” Lady continued barking, her tail wagging so quickly Henry barely saw it.

“She looks friendly,” Henry agreed. “So, are you James? James Went?”

The man nodded. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. Uh… oh! Hey, are you here about Dennis? Ah, usually I like to talk about the kids at my office.”

“What? No! No, no,” Henry said with a quick shake of his head. “I don’t have a kid. I’m, uh… I’m Henry. Stickmin. It’s been a while, but I just, well, I was at the orphanage and I heard about you.”

“Henry?” James’ eyebrows shot up. “Henry Stickmin? You were adopted way back! And it looks like you’re doing well for yourself! Come in, come in.” He opened the door and called back, “Delilah! Please take Lady to your room!”

Henry barely heard _“Okay, Dad!”_ from somewhere deeper in the house.

The thick-furred corgi hopped up onto her hind legs and scratched at Henry’s waist for attention, though thankfully her nails were recently clipped and thus did no damage.

“Come in, it’s getting warm. Why don’t I get you a drink?” James invited, gesturing toward the hall.

“Oh, uh, sure.” Henry picked Lady’s paws off his waist and set her back down. Just then, a teenage girl ran down from a flight of steps. She froze upon seeing Henry and did a quick backtrack until he couldn’t see her from behind the corner.

“Lady!” he heard her call.

Henry passed her, making sure to keep his eyes on James. “So, you got a few cute kids, huh?”

“Definitely,” James hummed. “I didn’t get adopted, so it got really hard, but I was able to get through college. Guaranteed I lost years off my life for not sleeping for about three years straight.”

The little boy he held at his hip gasped, “You can die if you don’t sleep?”

“Oh, no! No, no, you’re going to be just fine,” James said. “It just makes you sick if you don’t sleep enough. Say, why don’t you go play with your siblings, Zach?”

The boy whined but, when James put him down, mumbled, “’kay, Dad,” and scurried off.

Henry sat down at the dining table in the kitchen. James didn’t sit next to him, but rather went to a cabinet. “What do you want, Henry? We got milk, water, and pretty much any combination of juice and lemonade known to man. Some of its sugar free, and the milk is lactose free, in case you’re worried.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Nah, it’s fine,” said James, pulling down two glasses. “It’s been years. I’m excited to meet you again!”

Henry blinked. “You… ah… thanks, James. I’ll just take some water. It’s pretty hot out.”

“Water! Good choice, good choice.”

James filled up both cups from a water tap in the fridge. When he sat down and passed a glass to Henry, he asked, “So what brings you here? I haven’t seen you since that couple and, eh, brother picked you up.”

“I’ve been… a lot of places,” Henry said, holding the cup in both hands. “My parents do a lot of traveling on business. What happened to you? I can’t believe no one would have picked you up.”

James shrugged. “If you asked one of the ladies, it’s because older kids don’t get chosen very often.”

Henry snorted. “The one at the desk told me it was because no one wanted a gay boy.”

James laughed, though it was without humor. “Jerry sure got that instilled into everyone’s mind. There’s nothing wrong with a man liking another man or a woman liking another woman. I married a woman. I love her, and that’s my preference. But is it any skin off my back if someone thinks down of me because they believed Jerry’s rumors? No. But I do think that might have been part of it.”

Henry looked over the wall of pictures in the hallway facing them. “So, where did you find the young girl?”

“She was six when I left the orphanage,” James said. “I felt like my place was at the orphanage, watching the other little kids. So, I grew as attached to her as I did all the other little ones who came and went. When I got back from college, I came back and found her there. Delila, Scott, Derek, Zach, Annabella, Juniper, and Mary were all just around here somewhere. In fact, we found Elliott trying to steal our car one early morning.”

“It sounds like there are a few of them,” Henry commented.

James nodded. “And we love every one of them! We might not have made them, but you don’t need to make a kid to love them.” He chuckled. “And what about you, Henry? You’re not too much younger than me. Did you settle down with anyone yet?”

Henry snorted and then shook his head. “No, no, I don’t think so. Not yet. But you did like to help the other kids.” Henry’s smile faded. “Did you ever consider trying to work there?”

James’ smile fell as well, and a rather dark look overcame him. “Yes. In fact, that’s the first place I applied for work. But the ladies didn’t want a man working there. I don’t know, I think they just _assume_ I’d do something terrible to the kids just because I’m not a woman.”

“Because women would _never_ abuse kids.”

“I know, right?” James puffed. “Anyway, I went to school instead and became an elementary school teacher. I worked as a baby sister since I was sixteen. Honestly, I was a little heartbroken that I couldn’t work at the orphanage, but I wouldn’t trade where I am now for anything. What about you?”

“I’m working in my parents’ trade,” Henry answered. “Business; tech support, at the moment. It’s… not as boring as it sounds.”

James chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it. You know, my wife works as a CEO for one of the bigger fashion companies. Is that the type of work you do…?”

Henry shook his head. “I’m mostly traveling, doing field work. It’s not that boring, but there’s not that much to it.”

James was… still a nice guy. They talked for hours, laughing over their childhood stories or congratulating each other over achievements big and small. Then, of course, there was gossip, which Ellie accused Henry of being a gossip himself, so it fit. Eventually, a woman came home and announced her presence. He had to hand it to James; she was a pretty woman. Tall for a woman with strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes, currently wearing a black suit. A gold band with some sort of blue gems embedded in it stuck on her finger, matching the one James wore.

Henry decided to leave, then. Let the family get back to being a family. Henry still had to move into his own place. After all, he had the house picked out and ready to move in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean Jerry was a petulant bully that spread false rumors to get at a kid?
> 
> Also, hey Dave! Nice to meet you! :3 I really liked James' character. I love the "mother hen" trope with the lady (or gentleman) who has a couple of kids (or even can't have them at all) but adopts way more.
> 
> (On a totally different note, Happy post-Halloween weekend! :3 Kinda sad I couldn't post about it on Halloween, lol)


	24. Fresh Dust

Ugh, how happy Henry was living in an airship. He didn’t need to go through the hoops required to rent an apartment. But, hey, he got to mount a flatscreen TV in the wall of his living room at such a place where he could just shift the angle to see it in the living room or dining room. He’d never actually owned a TV before and found that the noise was a great filler to the otherwise incredibly quiet apartment. He also ended up having quite a bit of room to wander around, plenty of room on the walls to decorate–which he probably wouldn’t do–and a kitchen to cook stuff. Henry wasn’t overly fond of cooking, he soon found out, but that’s what normal people did in society. Not that Henry _wanted_ to be a normal person in society, but the idea of trying out new things always excited him.

Yes, there were a lot of rules that came with the place, such as upkeep and furniture and what times he could or couldn’t make noise. He had neighbors, after all. But Henry was used to minimizing his use of noise at a certain time. He wasn’t, however, used to being able to turn out the lights whenever he wanted. So, he spent an embarrassingly long time trying to go to sleep with the lights on before realizing that, wait, the switches were on the walls and not in a control room somewhere. Also, though he’d occasionally tried his hand at cooking whenever the chefs weren’t preparing a meal, he’d never seriously cooked a meal before. He remembered cooking some things for Afanasiy so long ago, but he’d long since forgotten the recipe.

But, even beyond the rules and inconveniences and the struggle to get used to the newness of this life, he had one thing that topped them all.

“Hey.” Henry spoke into the mic of his headset. A little icon of an “H” with a funny hat popped up in the chat box of Discord.

“Heyyyy!” Ellie exclaimed, her own little rose icon appearing. “Finally! What were you doing, man?”

“Putting away dinner stuff,” Henry replied and took a drink of his water.

“Dinner?” Ellie echoed. “Why so late, man? Isn’t it, like, eight where you’re at?”

“Six,” Henry corrected. “I’m actually staying in New Mexico, now.”

Charles asked, a circle with a green helicopter and a large star in the background appearing, “Don’t your parents live in New York? I didn’t know you moved.”

“Yeah, but I got my own place in Red Mesa, for the time being. I’m working remote. Decided to fly the coop for a bit.”

Ellie squealed, “You finally got your own place! Ha! Congrats, Henry!”

“Congratulations!” Charles hummed. “Oh, man, living out on your own!”

Henry couldn’t help a grin. _They were proud of him._

Ellie went on, “See, Charles? He doesn’t live at home anymore! You should go somewhere fancy!”

Charles stuttered, “I-I don’t live at home, Ellie! I’m just still in Nevada. But, hey! We share a time zone, Henry!”

Ellie clicked her tongue, “Yeah, why share with him? Florida’s great this time of year.”

Henry wrinkled his eyebrows. “Don’t you live in Oregon?”

“Didn’t I tell you I moved? Oh, well. I moved. Like, I settled in yesterday.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “I should just stop asking where you live, huh?”

“Probably! Now who’s ready to crash a server and wreck some people?” After getting sounds of agreement from the two, she declared, “Call of Duty it is! This time, I refuse to carry.”

Henry chimed in, “You literally almost killed us all last time.”

“Details.”

Henry, after spending the morning and afternoon wandering the city and watching the people go, went back to the police department. They didn’t have much on Henry’s parents, but they at least had the circumstance of their deaths. Henry could have known this from a deep search but decided against it. He wanted the information straight from the horse’s mouth. And here the horse was speaking.

The curly-haired woman was first. _Officer Calla Mary Stickmin._ Near it: _MIA_. Officer Stickmin had last been seen in a high-speed chase, which ended the lives of three officers but the capture of no criminal. She was the only one who could not be accounted for. Officer Stickmin had a reputation of being the rough-and-tumble, tooth-and-nail fighter. She was persistent, fantastic with any ground vehicle, and no criminal escaped her. _“That’s why she went missing, huh? Couldn’t let a couple of troublemakers leave. Though, from what he knew of the report, they probably weren’t just miscreants.”_

The second was the man’s. This portrait was of a man with uncanny resemblance to Henry, though his short hair was as straight as bone. _Captain Kendrick Henry Stickmin_. Near that: _KIA._ Captain Kendrick Stickmin died in the line of duty against a band of criminals attempting a robbery. The criminals were killed or arrested, and Captain Kendrick was the only casualty. It seemed him being the only casualty was a result of him covering the others for a retreat for backup, his death allowing his team to live. _“Valiant guy. Wonder if he knew being injured and alive would’ve been better in the long run.”_

Henry couldn’t help the bitterness he felt. Calla could have stopped the chase before she could go missing. Captain Kendrick could’ve been smarter about actually living. Then Henry wouldn’t have been put in the Red Mesa Orphanage. Though, Henry wouldn’t have met Dad Reginald and Dad Right, so perhaps that was a little bit of a trade-off. Besides, how would they have dealt with Henry’s kleptomania? Wouldn’t it be ironic if they had to arrest their own son and throw him in prison?

Henry decided to turn to the computer for more information. Old news articles reaffirmed the reports, though the news articles held more data. Huh. She went missing after chasing some Toppats, it seemed. Go figure. He died attacking common crooks at a bank vault. They had been happily married for four years before having their first and only child. Having eloped, they had no other family for their son, Henry Mary Stickmin, to go. Or perhaps, no family that would accept the kid, if their families really didn’t like one another. Eh, Henry didn’t normally miss garbage, and this was no exception.

So, anyway, Henry had spent days lurking in the city. He hadn’t gotten in trouble with the law despite his pickpocketing and picking up “lost” things that didn’t belong to him. Maybe he should get a job somewhere in a city, somewhere he could have a lot of fun dissecting and figuring out the best ways to infiltrate. Plenty of shops had similar designs and defenses, so if he learned from a few, he’d learn fairly quickly the ins and outs. He could even plan a solo heist or two.

The trouble with finding a job someplace that had anything worthy of theft was that they were more important. More important places required things like _college degrees_ and _work experience._ Since thievery wasn’t technically work experience, and it didn’t require a college education so he never bothered with one, this might be a little more difficult than he expected. Well… there was one job in a museum! It was a janitorial job, but that just meant he’d get a much more comfortable and intimate knowledge of the layout and defenses of that particular museum, and thus how others worked. It was a decent looking place, a regular squat building showing off artifacts from history–mostly the caveman and tribal eras, but there was some stuff about medieval Europe there, so that was nice. Henry never minded a little hard or dirty work, most of his childhood chores consisting of stuff like cleaning the floors in the cafeteria or helping out with the cleanup of the kitchens. Perfect! A perfect plan for the long con.

It took a little while of interviews and background checks. Aside from childhood delinquency, Henry had maintained a mostly clean record–something he was _very_ proud of. After all, a clean record wasn’t necessarily because he was a clean guy, but because he was never caught.

Henry plopped down at his computer and threw on his headset. He had about an hour before Charles got off work–

_Briiiing! Briiiing!_

Henry slipped his headset off to fall over his shoulders and picked up his phone. “Hello?”

 _“Hey, Henry!”_ Ellie hummed.

“Oh! Hey, Ellie!”

 _“So, I was just wondering. I_ just _finished some work in California. It started in Florida but I chased it down to California. Anyway, I was going to be in the neighborhood and wondered if you had some time off? You, Charles, and I could meet up again.”_

Henry’s delight at the surprise call melted into anxiety. “R-really?”

 _“Yeah!”_ Ellie, probably not catching his tone, hummed. _“I’ll probably be here another week before running back to Florida. Since Charles is a fancy pilot and you got a new place, I just thought it would be great to hang out.”_

_Oh, to meet up with Ellie and Charles again! But they lived such different lives. What if they asked about where Henry worked? Or what he did? They might figure out he was lying if he told them his usual shtick of being in the tech business. Then they’d find out he was a Toppat and then Charles would never speak to him again. Ellie was more or less on the straight and narrow, thanks to Charles, so she’d probably reject him, too. Oh, man, no he couldn’t do that. But it had been years since the three of them got together._

_“Uh, Henry? You there?”_ Ellie prompted.

“Oh? O-oh! Yeah, I’m here,” Henry chuckled. “Yeah, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Right, uh… sure. Yeah. I just didn’t expect that.”

_“Yeah, short notice, sorry. I just didn’t expect to be around here. Well, Charles’ll get off work soon and we can talk to him about it then. So, what’s happening in your life, Papa Hen?”_

Henry snorted. _God dammit. One incident with Scrabble, pizza delivery, and a chicken coop and he got a nickname he couldn’t shake off seven years later._ “Just fine, Ellie! What about you?”

_“What’s got you so tied up? I was pretty busy today. Uuuugh, I need a shower. My Dad would throw a fit looking at me. I had to tackle the guy I was chasing. It was epic. I’m covered in mud and sweat, though. Blegh.”_

Henry chuckled. “Unlucky guy.”

 _“Yeah. Hey! You’re a pretty strong dude and good with guns. Why don’t you come on a mission with me sometime? Help take down a big baddie!”_ Something on Ellie’s side swished as if punched.

Henry hummed. “Well, maybe. Depends, though. Who would I help take down?”

There was a short pause on Ellie’s end. _“…I don’t know. I take commissions from plenty of people. Government, police, security, people who just want someone watching their back. I’ll tell ya. Anyone you wouldn’t want to piss off?”_

“Probably some big organization.” _Like the Toppats._ “Those take _forever_ to go away.”

_“Pshhht. You got that right. Ugh, okay, this is bothering me. Talk to you in a bit?”_

“Yeah, sure. Talk to you soon, Ellie bean!”

“See ya later, Papa Hen!”

_Click_

Henry set down his phone. He put his headphones back on, but they couldn’t block the buzzing in his head. On one hand, he’d be delighted to see Ellie and Charles again. They hadn’t actually met up in God-knows-how-long. He sometimes met up with Charles or Ellie if he was in the neighborhood, but none of them were ever in the same place at the same time as a group. With Ellie traveling the US, Charles going where the government needed him to, and Henry traveling the world, the window of opportunity to all meet up was never open. There was the occasional planned visit, but those had become increasingly rare. On the _other_ hand, meeting up with them could cause problems. They could talk about their new lives and might edge into his home life. He absolutely could _not_ risk that. He’d been absolutely fine with his friends’ families, but he doubted his friends would be happy with his family. That and he’d been lying to them ever since they met.

 _“What else are you lying about?”_ he could imagine Ellie saying, her eyes narrowed in skepticism and hands on her hips.

 _“Okay! Well! There’s a good explanation for this! Right Henry?”_ Charles would ask, his smile crooked and eyes wide and pleading, desperately attempting peace.

Henry physically shook his head to do away with the thoughts. The pros and cons were very heavily tied here. If this were a heist, he wouldn’t touch it with a six-foot pole. There were too many variables, too many ways to get caught, too many ways to lose someone. But this wasn’t a heist, these were his best friends.

…he had to do it.

Henry couldn’t pass up this opportunity. After all, when was the next time they’d all be in the same place? With Henry sitting in New Mexico and Charles stationed in Nevada, it might be more often than before.

Henry groaned and tipped his head back. He was making a mistaaaaaaaake! He knew it! He was going to make a _huge_ mistake, but he couldn’t help it. He was in it, now, and he was going to win it. Well, in the way a planned get together can be won, at least.

Henry tipped his head forward again. Ah, well. He made a decision, and it was time to live with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things change, y'know. There's a difference between living at home and living outside, after all!
> 
> You know the Triple Threat couldn't be separated for long, right? >w> That doesn't mean it's easy, though.
> 
> (Also, Kyraousity, was I that obvious? ;-; lol)


	25. Hangout

Henry fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. He’d just locked his scooter in place next to a bike. Now he was in the hallway of an apartment complex. A _lot_ of military and military-affiliated people and families lived around here. But that’s not what made him nervous. Henry wasn’t a wanted man, and he wasn’t wearing a top hat. He could say or sign hello to someone without fear of being arrested.

Henry took a deep breath. “Calm down, Henry,” he whispered. “It’s just Charles. You saw him around Easter. You talk to him pretty much every night. He won’t bite. Neither will Ellie. Don’t be scared of your own friends.”

With that, Henry walked down the hall. He tried to put down the dread that mingled with the excitement inside of him, but it was difficult. Why was he so nervous now? What was different between now and last Easter when he met Charles or about two months ago when he saw Ellie? Absolutely nothing, that’s what!

Henry raised his hand and knocked.

Something inside shuffled. Then, the door was open. Standing before him, polite interest turning into glee, eyes gleaming like emeralds, was Henry’s best friend. “Henry!” Charles laughed. Suddenly, Henry was no longer standing on his own as Charles pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug. “Henry, it’s been _forever!_ ”

Henry hugged him back, the slightly wrinkled beige fabric of Charles’ t-shirt under his fingers and his short auburn hair whisking over his nose. His scarlet headphones were wrapped around his neck, as always when they weren’t over his ears. The man was on his toes, being a few inches shorter than Henry, but didn’t seem bothered. Henry prompted, “We hung out last Easter, remember? Got to hide a bunch of eggs for your little cousins?”

Charles let go, but only long enough to let Henry inside and shut the door. “Well, yeah, but that was in _April_. It’s July.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s better than having met on Valentines’ Day or something.”

“Yeah! Speaking of which, wasn’t that when you met Ellie in Colorado? I was _almost_ able to go, but I had a mission.”

Henry hummed. _Yeah, he remembered that. God it was awkward trying to explain to people he and Ellie could be together on Valentines’ Day as perfectly platonic friends._ “Yeah. You know, I tried to pretend we were siblings, but she refused ‘on principle.’ Later that next month I met her at a truck stop. We were going in opposite directions, so we didn’t talk long.”

Another knock came to the door. But, before Charles could answer it, Ellie opened the door with a, “Honey, I’m ho-ome~! Oh, hey! You’re here!” She punched Henry’s shoulder. “Let’s get this party started, eh?”

Charles tensed and grinned. “Definitely! I rented a few movies and got some dinner!”

Ellie smirked. “And _I_ brought flashy new cards. We are going to be up to the sunrise!”

Henry chuckled. “Are you sure? Dad’s not going to call and make sure you’re not up past your bedtime, right?”

“Oh, shut it! _You_ always fall asleep first.”

“And you make it a competition!”

“’Course I do! If you can’t compete, is it really worth doing?”

“Yes,” said Henry and Charles.

“Pfft. You two! So, what’s first? Catch up over dinner? Cards? Maybe whatever concoctions Charles dug up from the movie store?”

Henry glanced at his watch. “Dinner sounds nice. Charles?”

“Oh, yeah, guess I am kinda hungry,” Charles admitted and then walked further into the apartment, waving his hand to summon them as he went. “I made some hamburgers ahead of time and got some drinks.”

Henry perked up. Yes, now he could smell it! A plate covered in an inconspicuous cloth sat on the counter near the fridge, a few glasses ready to be filled and three plates stacked on top of each other there as well. Charles withdrew the cloth from on top of the trio of hamburgers as well as the container of French fries. He held out the first plate without looking back, giving Henry the opportunity to grab his dinner first.

Henry sat at the singular table in the kitchen. Ellie and Charles quickly joined them, though Charles left to grab a bottle of lemonade, water, and soda. Henry set his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands. Ellie snickered at him and leaned back in her chair. “Dude, didn’t you say your Dad was extremely particular about how you ate?”

“Yeah, well, he’s not here, is he?” Henry prompted. “Besides, didn’t _your_ dad tell you it was a bad habit to stay up past eleven?”

“Okay, point taken,” Ellie replied with a shrug.

Henry said, “So, anyway, what has life been like to you guys?”

Ellie replied with a flippant wave of her hand, “You know, same-old, same-old. Still hard trying to scrounge up jobs–probably because I’m not an old man who’s been a cop or in the military or something–but when I do get one, I’m usually in for a treat! Charles?”

“Oh, it’s been great!” replied Charles, pouring himself some lemonade. “Galeforce told me that he’s keeping me on special missions only!”

Henry grinned. “It’s because you’re an amazing pilot, right?”

“Yep! I-I mean, that’s what people’ve told me!”

Ellie took a bite out of her hamburger. “Welp, between flying literally anything better than pretty much anyone, you’ve got potential as a cook.”

The pilot chuckled, taking his own dinner. “Thanks, Ellie! What about you, Henry?”

“Yeah, you haven’t told us _anything_ ,” Ellie agreed.

Henry chuckled and grabbed his own dinner. “Ahh, well, there really hasn’t been a lot to talk about. My job gets pretty boring sometimes, you know. Uh, but I did move to New Mexico. Dad still insists on calling every other night. I probably told you that, right?”

The mercenary chuckled to herself. “Man, oh man. Do I know that feeling. Mom goes out of her mind if I don’t call her at _least_ every other day. If I haven’t talked to her in over two days, she threatened to get Charles’ parents to fly her over to wherever I am. Apparently she thinks being a mercenary is dangerous.”

“It _is_ dangerous,” Henry pointed out.

“Details. Hey, isn’t your job just as dangerous, Charles?”

“It can be,” Charles replied with a tipping of his head. “But when I’m in my helicopter–er, the _military’s_ helicopter–nothing can take me down. Except maybe a SAM Turret.”

Henry stated seriously, “Then stay away from those.”

“Henry, you talk like I _would_ fly straight into a base full of SAM Turrets and crash my helicopter into a building or something.”

Henry and Ellie exclaimed, “Because that’s _exactly_ what you’d do!”

Ellie pointed out, “You’ve been trying to crash your helicopter into stuff for _forever_ Charles.”

“Not my big helicopter,” Charles pointed out.

Henry smirked. “That’s because one of my dad’s friends fixed it up to be the ultimate helicopter and you didn’t know _how_ to fix it if it broke again.”

Ellie tipped her head. “Well, he had no problems with that mini copter you got him for Christmas.”

“Okay,” relented Charles, “–I sometimes did that. But! That one time was worth it!”

The mercenary raised an eyebrow. “Until we were all grounded to Hell for knocking over a fence and almost hitting two kids and a dog.”

Henry pointed out, “But I grabbed the copter without getting caught by the owners of the house.”

“You vaulted the neighbor’s fence like an absolute pro,” agreed Ellie.

Henry finished the last scrap of his hamburger and looked at his hands. Huh. That was fast. He shrugged and started on his fries.

Charles asked, “So, what kind of games did you guys bring?”

Henry patted his pocket. “A deck of cards.”

Ellie nodded to her backpack. “Cards Against Humanity and Monopoly will keep us busy.”

Charles grinned. “Ohhhh, this is going to be great! Just like old times!”

Henry downed the last of his water. “What first? Monopoly?”

Ellie finished off her fries. “I’m okay with that. Charles?”

“Sure! Then can we play Cards against Humanity?”

“Oh of course!” Ellie wiped off her hands on her paper towel and dug through her purse. Henry took their plates and went to the sink. Charles refilled their drinks and moved the water pitcher and bottles of drinks to a counter nearby.

God, Henry had almost forgotten what it was like to sit down with a board game to play with Ellie and Charles. Ellie was cutthroat, gathering as much land as she could. Henry’s roles tended to be the luckiest, though he _did_ go to jail for rolling three doubles in a row. Twice. He wasn’t even trying to cheat! Charles hardly had a chance to buy land what with already owned land soaking up his money. Unfortunately, this meant Henry and Ellie bashed their heads together as they competed and made the worst mistakes of the game: trading a few railroads and utilities with Charles in return for their own monopolies. Charles, regaining his luck, managed to swamp them both with a couple of monopolies on the train, utilities and the dreaded Boardwalk. In fact, just landing once on Boardwalk, which held a hotel, forced Ellie to go bankrupt. Henry managed to squeak by a few turns more until blowing his money on a last-minute railroad before he could pass go.

Henry set down his cards with a shake of his head. “How?”

Charles, giggling as he gathered his wins, replied, “It’s one of our favorite games on the base.”

“Well,” stated Ellie as she brought out a long black box of cards, “Let’s see if you’re good at _this_ one, Pure Boi.”

It turned out Charles _was_ a little good at the game. Unfortunately for him, Ellie was sharp as a whip. Even when the men tried to team up on her, she somehow managed to trick the current Card Czar into mixing up whose cards were whose and made the pointed rounds null.

Three rounds later with an _almost_ straight winner–Henry got his first win of the night at the last second–that box was put away.

Henry looked over his deck. “Eh, you guys want to play or watch one of the movies Charles got?”

Charles and Ellie looked at each other. Charles shrugged. “I guess whatever you guys want to do.”

Ellie gave them a sharp nod. “Movie it is! I’ll put this away, Charles you put on something fantastic! Henry, you pop the popcorn. You _have_ popcorn, right?”

Charles hopped up and ran to the pantry. He immediately pulled out a pre-popped bag of popcorn. “Gotcha covered!”

Henry pushed himself to his feet, his chair squeaking back. “Then I’ll start on the popcorn.”

Charles tossed the package to Henry and went to the TV, collecting a couple of movie cases that were next to it. Ellie, gathering her cards, answered Charles’ question before he could ask it, “Whatever you want, Charlie!”

Henry knew Ellie’s weird taste of popcorn. So, as the movie food was popping, he brought out two bowls–one larger than the other–and the season salt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Card games, hamburgers, and movies. Who could ask for more, right?
> 
> To the uninitiated: There are two ways to eat popcorn. A: at a movie theater. B: with season salt.


	26. Good Night

Charles was a fan of action movies, sure, but there were some other movies he liked. Back at the base, he and the Bukowski twins along with a few others would occasionally come over to one of their apartments to hang out. Be it chattering on about some new mission, complaining about practice, or talking about the latest news, it would be a real get together. But one night came the night that would change him forever. As a joke, Liam had brought over a rom com his wife was obsessed with. They, of course, laughed it off and poked fun at the plot and characters, and Charles laughed along. But honestly, all teasing aside, it had been a really nice movie. Ever since, Charles had been known to catch himself watching a rom com or two while sitting alone.

Charles wasn’t the competitive type. He was the cautious type. Knowing Ellie hadn’t been around them for months and hadn’t had a roommate in almost two years or regular friend dates, he knew what was going to happen the moment he fell asleep. He’d locked up the markers, pens, and anything else he thought Ellie might be able to get her hands on, but she was like a bloodhound who could pick locks.

 _“You are_ such _a child!”_ Henry grumbled one morning last year, scrubbing off his face in the kitchen sink.

 _“But you love me~!”_ she hummed, giggling to herself as she messed with her phone. Henry had caught the action and it turned into a chase as Henry had tried to snatch her phone and Ellie had defended herself.

By the time the second movie was nearing its climax, Henry was out cold. Charles felt a little sorry for him; after all, he’d curled up a little around himself without a blanket. Unfortunately, Charles’ ability to get up and fetch a blanket was a little hampered. With Henry sitting in the middle of them, there was no couch arm to lay on in the weirdest, most uncomfortable position possible. Instead, he leaned on _him_ , Henry’s head on Charles’ shoulder and one hand loosely holding onto his sleeve. His chest expanded and contracted in long, gentle breaths.

Charles considered moving him, but the thought of him waking up confronted him. He’d become a surprisingly jumpy man, and when he woke up, he was awake. When he was awake, he was looking around, quiet and stiff as a deer, as if expecting someone to jump out of the shadows at him. It was a surprising contrast from his younger years, when Henry would fall asleep on Charles and refuse to take Charles’ struggles as a signal to wake up.

Ellie, who had just come back from the bathroom, looked at Henry and then Charles. Then, a Cheshire Cat grin spread across her features. She whispered, “Is he asleep already?”

Charles signed, “ _Yeah. He fell asleep right after you left._ ”

Ellie narrowed her eyes. Charles repeated the line. She nodded and responded in a slightly slower manner in sign language, “ _He looked tired. You need help escaping?_ ”

Charles shook his head. “ _He might wake up, and he needs sleep. Hey, if you don’t mind, there are some blankets in the closet? Could you grab one please?_ ”

Ellie muffled a snicker. “ _Okay._ ”

“ _Thanks!_ ”

Ellie gave him the thumbs up and walked to his closet where, on the shelf above the clothes pole, was a monstrous pile of neatly folded and squished blankets. She managed to wrestle one out, only almost bringing down the entire pile twice. She draped the deep green comforter over them. “ _Now, hold still a second._ ”

“Ellie!” Charles couldn’t help the quiet whine.

Ellie took out her phone. “C’mon! Smile!”

Charles gave her a disappointed, only slightly exasperated look.

She giggled and wrinkled her nose. “Oh, fine. Fight me off, why doncha. Good night, Charles.” Charles hummed in response. With that, she turned off the movie and went for the cot in the closet.

Charles slowly let himself lay against the back of the couch and tipped his head back. Eh, sitting on the couch wasn’t the most comfortable way to fall asleep, but he’d manage, right?

His thoughts were interrupted as Henry’s breathing changed. He twitched his sleep and mumbled something unintelligible. His eyebrows wrinkled a little as if… confused? Or was that fear? Anger? It was something unpleasant, that was for sure. Charles raised his arm and ran his hand over Henry’s back, smoothing out his ruffled shirt in the process. He shifted onto his side and snuggled into the pilot, burying his face in his neck. Slowly, he relaxed, and his breathing evened out.

…

Okay, so, he should be going to sleep. He needed to get up in the morning, after all. It’s hard to get up in the morning without sleeping, or just sleeping for a few hours. It wasn’t good for him, not for anyone. But oooooooh no, no, no. He _wanted_ to fall asleep and thus he wasn’t allowed to do so. It was probably because he wasn’t in his bed. Right, exactly. It had always been difficult for him to sleep on a couch or cot or nest of blankets on the floor. But it was fine! It wasn’t impossible! Well, Henry’s weight leaning on him and staying in a specific place and position was definitely going to make him sore in the morning, so that thought pestered him. But Charles felt the gentle beating of Henry’s heart on his side and quiet, warm breath on his neck and collar. That was something he wasn’t used to at all. It wasn’t _bad,_ of course! Just weird? W-well, what was weird about that, Henry and Charles had been friends for years! And Henry always passed out first. Especially as children, Henry would turn Charles into a pillow since Ellie would always push him off. So, add that to the pile of excuses he could give for not cooking breakfast.

Actually! Scratch that! Ellie would probably make a big deal of it. Though, maybe it would be worse if she _didn’t_. If Ellie wasn’t going to be teasing Charles or Henry, she’d be completely serious. When she was completely serious, it was because she made her mind up about something that she thought was especially important to them. This wasn’t something that was that important, and Charles knew she would know that, but what if she didn’t? If she didn’t, she’d try and encourage Charles to do… something. He didn’t know what it would be, but she would imagine something because she _always does_. If Charles told Ellie that he couldn’t fall asleep because of Henry, Henry would get really guilty, and that would just _kill_ him. He hated seeing Henry guilty or upset about something. For some reason, he tended to be more sensitive about it now a days. Something was keeping him up, making him feel guilty for some reason. Did Henry do something, and they forgot what it was?

Oh, but no. No, that couldn’t be. Sure, Henry would sometimes forget when something important was happening, but they understood and never held it against him. Or maybe he just wasn’t feeling right? That might be possible. Henry could just be feeling a little stressed because of the move and being on his own. Yeah, it was probably stress. Hey, some time away from it all should help, which is probably why he looked less guilty tonight!

Charles smiled and shut his eyes. Yeah, life was probably just weird for him right now. But Charles would always be there for Henry. Ellie, too, definitely. They were a team!

* * * * *

Henry’s dream had been a rather wild rollercoaster. He didn’t really remember much at all, as reality now peaked its head into his sluggish mind. He knew there was fear in the beginning, but it was not there for long. At one point, he could feel himself starting to wake up, but he ignored it and went back to sleep.

Now, he toed the line between dreams and the waking world. As much as he needed to get up to greet the day, he just… didn’t want to. He was comfortable, warm… and he probably should wake up in case Ellie did something to him and he’d need to go through her phone and delete any pictures she took in the middle of the night. She _thought_ she changed her password, but Henry didn’t need a password to get into a phone. It was just a formality.

Henry stretched as far as he could, shifting the thick jungle green blanket that had been laid over him.

He heard some shuffling further into the apartment.

The small noise, as well as the muffled sound of Teflon rubbing against Teflon and metal, woke him enough to move. Henry opened his eyes and propped himself up with his elbow. “Hhhhh… oh. Ahhhh, I fell asleep during the movie, didn’t I. Did Ellie draw on me?”

He heard a chuckle from their chipper, morning person best friend. “Nope~!”

Henry bit his hand to keep from yawning and got up. “Thanks for fighting her off, Charles. You’re my champ.” Without consciously thinking about it, he folded his blanket.

Henry found Charles in the kitchen, whipping quite a few eggs in a container with milk and shreds of cheese. A tube of sausage was next to him as well as different vegetables and plants. Two pans were on the stove and a spatula and star-shaped cutter were nearby, resting on a long, narrow plate-like thing in the shape of a helicopter. Ah, yes. Henry and Ellie had schemed long and hard on what to get him on his twentieth birthday. Their devious minds had concocted many a gift, but eventually they landed on something simpler–the commissioned ceramic thing because they knew he liked cooking. What was the thing called again…? Ah, well.

“So.” Henry’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “So, what are you making?”

Charles didn’t turn around. “Oh, omelets and sausage! Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just… never made omelets before.”

Charles glanced back at him with a grin. “Do you want to learn how?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah. So, what’s that?”

“Okay, well, I like cheese, so I usually sprinkle in a little cheese with the eggs as I’m whipping them.” Charles stepped to the side to show off the container filled with a gold and white marbled liquid. Thick yellow specks flecked the inside. “When you’re making the eggs, milk or cream should go in the batter. That’ll make them fluffy and malleable. Otherwise, when you go to fold it, the omelet will crack.”

“Okay. Milk or cream and some shredded cheese go in the eggs,” Henry summarized.

“Yep!” Charles glanced at the pan. He cut off a slice of butter from a cold stick and dropped it in. Immediately, it hissed back at him and slid away. Charles picked up the spatula and played with it for a few seconds, spreading the melting butter over the entire pan. “Butter, olive oil, coconut oil, or cooking spray can grease the pan. I like using butter, but any of those will work. If the eggs stick–” Charles poured some of the egg batter into the pan as he talked. “–then you’ll end up with scrambled eggs, and that’s not good.” The egg mixture started to bubble around the edges as it spread. Charles blocked the edges with his spatula, allowing the edges to cook and stay in place.

“How do you know how much milk to put in?”

Charles sliced sausage patties from the tube and tossed one of the four in the pan. He immediately went to work hacking at it with the star cutter. “Practice. You just need to judge it correctly. Too much and it becomes too liquid-y. Too little and the milk won’t do its job and the omelet will crack.”

Henry tipped his head. “What’s that about?”

“Filling. Oh! What do you want on your omelet?” Charles flipped the half-cooked eggs over and spread a variety of ingredients–most green, though there was some cheese–onto half of it. “I have lettuce, cheese, spinach, broccoli, and I think I can chop up some celery and carrots.” He rambled on a list as he cut the sausage some more. Charles interrupted himself. “Oh! Right, and here, it should just barely be cooked enough to touch without spilling or splitting. Take half of it under the spatula and bwoop!” Charles stuck his spatula under it and flopped it over like a book. Indeed, it was barely darker than yellow and all the ingredients he’d spread inside were hidden. “Once the bottom’s cooked, you’ll need to flip it over to cook the top. That way both sides cook, but the filling cooks into it as well.” To accent his point, Charles flipped the entire thing over effortlessly. The bottom was a nice brownish gold color.

Henry blinked. “How did you do that? Just flip it over and none of it spilled out?”

“Practice!” Charles hummed. “You need to know when to flip it, how much filling should be in there, and just learn how to do it well. It took me a while, let me tell you.” Charles plated the omelet as well as the now extremely small bits of cooked sausage. Another smaller bit of butter melted, an omelet was poured, and three sausage patties sizzled in the other pan. “So, what did you want on your omelet again?”

“Ahhhhh, well, you got sausage and cheese?”

“Yep! Hmm… gotta have more than protein for a good meal. How about lettuce or spinach? They disappear into the eggs and you can’t really taste them if you hide them well enough. I also have broccoli, which shredded broccoli is good with eggs.”

Suddenly, Henry felt like a kid again, Dad Reginald urging him to eat some sort of vegetable with his meals. “Aaaah, yeah, how about the shredded lettuce?”

“Coming right up!” The pilot prodded the sausage patties with his spatula a few times to move them around.

Henry jumped as he heard Ellie behind him. “What’s for breakfast, Charlie?”

Charles said, “Omelets and sausage. I also have some raw fruits and veggies on the side. Oh! Like apples! Got a few of those. Er–one. I ate the others. But you can have the last one.”

“Nah.” Ellie bit back a yawn. Her hair was still messy, but in the way short hair can be as in she could still walk into work and look mildly acceptable as she was. Well, her reflexes weren’t going to be sharp enough, probably, after just waking up. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Morning~!” Charles hummed.

“Morning,” Henry responded.

“How’d you sleep?” asked the pilot, flipping over the omelet and the sausages.

“As well as I could manage,” Ellie admitted. “I mean, better than a lot of the hotels I been to, let me tell you. A good environment, quiet, two dorks sleeping together on a couch, and the smell of eggs in the morning.”

Charles chuckled, sprinkling on the ingredients Henry had requested. “That’s probably because you don’t have a roommate or partner or something. What do you want on your omelet, Ellie?”

Henry looked between them. “What?”

“Oh, I like eggs,” Ellie said. “Broccoli and sausage on mine, if you will, Charlie.”

“Sure!”

Henry cut in, “N-no, that first part.”

“Charles’ place is quiet and look at these decorations,” Ellie hummed, unable to stifle the crooked grin on her face.

Charles said, “You fell asleep.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “You fell asleep on the couch. I just got Ellie to leave you alone.”

Ellie raised her eyebrows, and her maddening grin softened into a smile he couldn’t quite understand. Henry, even more confused if that were possible, groaned and rubbed his eyes. “It’s too early for this.” He decided to go to the refrigerator, then. “Hey Charles?”

“Yeah, Henry! Just take whatever you want. But not the soda, that’s an after-noon drink.” Charles flashed Henry a surprisingly stern look before smiling and going back to his cooking.

Ellie chuckled. “Why are you so _particular_ about that?”

“Because soda’s an after-noon drink,” Charles replied simply. “You can have juice in the morning, but the seriously sugary stuff is only for lunch and beyond.”

Ellie thought for a moment. “Technically, if you think about it, that would mean that if you didn’t sleep, breakfast would be past noon, right?”

“No, it’d be past midnight,” Charles corrected.

As the two debated the technicalities of “past noon,” Henry poured himself a good glass of orange juice. Normally he’d make coffee, but Charles didn’t _have_ a coffee machine. Which, honestly, was kinda weird, and Ellie agreed, but neither of them confronted Charles about it. After all, Ellie kept her coffee machine in her bedroom, and Henry technically didn’t have one personally, but the Toppat Clan had a few. Besides, Charles was making them breakfast. The word “complaining” had no right to be in his household.

Henry poured them a few glasses. He wondered how much longer this would go on, how much more time they had together. Everyone slipped. One day, he may end up in prison for theft or trespassing. What would they think about that? Would they _want_ to be his friend after that? Charles was a government pilot and Ellie was on a technically legal career path. Would they want to associate with a criminal? They knew about his obsession with shiny objects and tendency to pick up things, perhaps without his own knowledge. But that was a character quirk. Being a Toppat _wasn’t_ a quirk–especially since he was adopted into, and raised as, one.

Henry mentally shook himself and turned to Ellie, who was yet to give up the debate, and Charles, who’d plated the last omelet and brought the dishes to the sink. Ellie took over, allowing Charles to put away the ingredients, who compromised on a “agree to disagree” basis. Henry could worry about that bridge once he got to it. Right now, miles away, he should just sit down and enjoy the scenery.

“C’mon, Henry!” Ellie called. “Where are those drinks?”

“Here!” Henry called back, gathering the three full cups in his arms and making his way to the table. Charles cringed, but relaxed once Henry–and the glasses–made it safely to the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fairly sure by now you _might_ be able to spot a ship from here. I've never written a romance or romantic subplot or anything of the like before, so please be patient with me. lol ~~_No, officer, I didn't change the ship, this was the original plan-_~~
> 
> Also, does anyone know what that little thing is that you rest spatulas on while cooking so you don't splatter stuff all over the counter or stove? I have one of those but can't for the life of me remember what it's called.  
> EDIT: I have recently been informed by my mother that it is called a "spoon rest."
> 
> Also, also, you've probably noticed the solidified (mostly) chapter count by now? Weeeeeeell, buckle up because you might recognize the next few chapters...


	27. Making Bank

A hot, dry wind tumbled through the desert, shifting grains of sand and dust over the scrubby landscape. A lone trail wound through the dry field of sand and dust, its compact, cracked surface made lighter with sand. At the end of the road lay a parking lot with a few scattered cars sitting before a large, squat building. Four small domes decorated the corners with a slightly larger dome at the top. _BANK_ glimmered in golden letters above the giant shutters that led inside.

Around the side where no road lay, nor car travel was Henry. He knew Dad Reginald would balk seeing Henry, either due to the outfit of a hoodie and worn jeans or the solo mission, but it was fine. He didn’t need to tell Dad Reginald right away. After all, Henry had found the plans to this vault on his own. So, on his own dime and time was Henry willing to cash out on his brilliant plan.

Of course, as Henry stood beside the cement-brick wall weeks after the last time he saw his friends, the thought of how, exactly, he was going to get in occurred to him. He’d brought a few tools with him; a shovel as he knew the sand and dirt was dry and shifty, a laser that could burn through metal or stone, keys to a wrecking ball, a teleporter so new it was still in beta testing, quite a few explosives, and an empty bag of cash he managed to nick on the way there. He’d been rather disappointed to find it empty, but that would soon be rectified.

Henry had a choice.

The laser would be great… though Henry didn’t know how to use it in a way that would determine where the rubble would fall. A shovel was good if he managed to avoid hitting a gas or water line. The wrecking ball would need a lot more time and it was very noisy. He could use the explosives, and he really needed to test out that teleporter. But explosives could potentially burn the money.

Hmm…

Henry took out the little gray box with a panel of three green squares and one big red button. An antenna, crooked at the end, with a golden bulb poked out the top. He’d read the manual on the way there–not an easy feat on a scooter, for the record–and the buttons corresponded with an x, y, and z axis. Of course, which button was which x or y or whatever was forgotten to him and the creators forgot to label it and Henry skimmed over 3D planes in math.

Okay, so, he knew the distance. It was, eh, ten yards? Well, ten yards would get him a little farther into the vault, but that’s what he needed. The bags of money would prove difficult if he got stuck inside of them, so he needed to be cautious as to how high he went. Let’s say… ten feet! Almost twice Henry’s height. Even if he had to _fall_ ten feet, he’d fall onto bags of money, right? Definitely! What was the x axis, again? …straight ahead, right.

Henry pressed a few buttons. Each green panel flickered with green light when he touched it. Finally, as he counted out probably thirty feet by ten feet by zero, he pressed the big red button on the center. Just pressing the button gave him a bit of a thrill. Who doesn’t love pressing big red buttons, after all?

Then the world warped around him. It got smaller and bigger and then he was taken left and right and then the heat of the day was gone and–

Oh, no-no. The heat was still there, and he felt it. Henry opened his eyes to see the concrete wall of the bank close– _really_ close. Also, his left leg wasn’t so warm, nor his abdomen or the wrist holding the teleporter because almost half of his body was now encased in cement. He felt the cool air of the vault with his leg, which he could still bend at the knee, while the other foot felt the warmth of the noon sun. Weird, but okay. Strangely, he wasn’t in pain. He just felt… compressed, as if wrapped up in a tight blanket. Well, he’d traveled about ten feet up and then thirty _inches_ forward. So, he’d just do it again, this time going backwards at negative ten feet by negative thirty feet–which would be inches, obviously. All he had to do was… press the button… on the teleporter imbedded in the concrete. He tried to pull himself back, but unfortunately cement was more stubborn than his squishy body. He looked back the way he came. Help… wasn’t coming any time soon.

**It’s emergent technology. I’m sure it will get better!**

Henry stiffened and looked around. What… what was that? That sounded like… but, no. His angel had been a man, he knew that. He guided him when the Wall stole him as a child. He _remembered_ his smooth voice and his calming presence and words of encouragement. Faintly, he recalled… events, happening. Then he would be there, not to guide him or even to help him, really, but support him. This voice sounded… feminine, sweet. That comforting presence when his angel was there but different. Not like a parent was there to hum encouragement to a little kid, but an adult, a person like him maybe even his age, one he didn’t know and who, frankly, might scare him a little with her sudden appearance.

Henry shook his head and put away the teleporter. This was getting weird. Just find another option. He had explosives. Another emergent technology was a purse of holding, one of a few bits of technology into which Henry had sunk pretty much all of his funds.

Henry pulled out a stick of totally legitimately claimed dynamite and went to work setting up a grand array of explosives, tying the wicks together with thread and forming a neat pile pressed up against the wall. So, maybe he was going overboard, but Henry would be well away from it and he couldn’t take chances with only blowing _part_ of the wall out. He had one chance!

Henry set a bomb the size of his fist atop his growing pile of disaster when he got distracted. As he put down another stick of dynamite, he knocked his arm into the volatile explosive. It rolled and then clattered down to the ground. Something knocked it loose and suddenly it was no longer content with being inert. The explosion caused a band of fire and energy to burst and engulf the dynamite and bombs and grenades.

**Handle with care.**

_Oh._ That’s why the presence felt different. She was _that_ _kind_ of friend. Friend? Hopefully. Well, something really bad had happened–he felt his blood go weird and warm and some fear huddled in the back of his mind–but he felt no fear in the voice. Just… sarcastic amusement. Almost like Ellie.

Anyway, what was Henry thinking? He couldn’t use explosives; they would cause a lot of noise and even cause a collapse, rendering his entire operation moot. After all, even if it all went perfectly, he could accidentally burn the money in the bank and _that_ would be completely counterintuitive.

So, how about a laser! A laser wouldn’t burn through the money, it wouldn’t explode in his face, and it wouldn’t trap him inside a concrete wall!

This machine was a little bigger, so he had to carry it back from where he left his scooter some distance away. But, as he held the laser canon with both arms, he knew it was worth it. The laser went off, throwing Henry’s aim and jerking up and then down in the rough shape of a drunken triangle before turning off. Some dust and dirt were scorched where the laser burnt the ground on either side of it, but otherwise it was a clean cut. Henry grinned, rather proud of himself. That was, until the cement wall decided to come down on top of him. Henry tried backing away, but the heavy canon and the even heavier wall, overjoyed to comply with gravity’s pull, went down on him. Henry could hardly take a breath before the air and everything in him was crushed out of him.

**Open Sesame.**

No, no. He might damage something with a laser and cause an alarm to go off. After all, if it was able to cut through the concrete, where would it stop? The concrete in the other side of the building? An alarm?

Okay, so laser, teleporter, and explosives were a no go. He had a shovel and the keys to a wrecking ball. But knowing his luck, the noise of the wrecking ball would get him caught by any competent person with at least half their hearing left. But digging was still an option…! Actually, what if his shovel couldn’t break through foundation?

Oh, well. Bag it was.

Henry sauntered down the road. He made it quite a ways away before deciding he was safely out of sight. Henry hopped into the bag and pulled it up over himself. Years of dares and stealth don’t fail him now…

Henry managed to fumble with a red ribbon enough to tie it in a tight knot on the outside. Henry let go and flopped over. Wow, tying a knot through a bag was exhausting. Now he just had to wait!

…wait, when was the truck due to come by again?

The bag was hot and stuffy as, though the material was breathable, it was only just barely and the heat from the sun melted into it. Eventually, Henry felt the road beneath him rumble. A large dark blue van with a money bag painted on the side zipped past him. He heard the brakes activate and then the truck beeped as it backed up. The doors opened and two pairs of feet trod over to the full, limp bag of “money.”

“Huh?” An older masculine voice appeared above him. “How did we lose one?”

A voice muffled a bit by a heavy mustache came in answer, “I think we should throw it in the back? Just to be safe?”

The first voice made a noncommittal noise. Suddenly, Henry was being lifted and then tossed. Henry winced and bit his wrist to muffle a noise of pain as he collided with the metal siding of the truck and the not-so-cushioned change and bills beneath him.

The truck rumbled to life and down the road they went, back to the vault. Henry, giddy with excitement and the absolute genius of his plan, waited not-so-patiently for the truck to stop, wait for the shudders to open, and then continue again. The back opened and Henry was up and out having been tossed onto more full bags. Change chinked as the rest of the truck was unloaded. Eventually, the truck started and moved out.

Henry waited in the cool and quiet for a few more minutes. He took a long, deep breath and pulled himself free. He popped his head out, clutching the lip of the bag. Unfortunately, the bank vault was, unsurprisingly, quite dark. Still, as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see _some_ light slipping through from around the shutters.

Henry grinned and stood up with a silent whoop. Ha-ha! Take _that_ co–

An alarm wailed and lights started flashing. A door opened and suddenly there were two security guards inside, guns loaded and pointed at him. Henry threw his arms up, jolting upon seeing the sudden entrance.

“Freeze!” yelled one.

“Don’t move!” shouted the other.

After the shock wore off, Henry stared listlessly ahead, waiting for the security guards to grab him, cuff him, and then bring him out to wait for a police cruiser. He was a little grateful that he was kept inside until the cruiser came by, at which point he was told his rights and then stuffed into the back of the airconditioned car. Henry, having not said a word, watched the officer in charge of him talking to the security guard. It was then, as Henry sat in a constant source of light and the chill of the air conditioning washed over him, that he realized how bruised and sweaty and disheveled and thirsty he was. Yay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, that's better! Howdy, Narrator!
> 
> Well, everyone trips up at some point. Looks like Adult Henry is getting more action than he planned.


	28. Breaking Bars

Ah, yes. Red Mesa Penitentiary. Henry’s time at trial wasn’t long, but he did hear the investigation into his escape was still ongoing. So, he had that going for him. Henry had gone full ghost and no friends or family could be located to come to his trial. Seeing as most of them were in the air probably around Asia at this point in time, one was in Missouri, and the last he heard one was in Wisconsin, it was to be expected.

But now, Henry stayed in his gray, weathered cell with a small-barred window overlooking the dry New Mexico landscape in one wall and one wall being made mostly of bars with a slot in the middle. There was nowhere in his cell to hide with the bar-wall facing the hallway and a bright light both inside his cell and the hallway outside. Quite suddenly, Henry knew what a hamster felt like.

Henry sat on his bed, one foot propped on the bed and the other on the floor, eyes on his lap. Okay, so, maybe he was hoping to see his family, even if it was just Howie, but he knew why he didn’t. And of course, seeing Charles and Ellie there would only make him feel _guilty_ because Charles just had that straight-and-narrow, puppy-eyed charm that always made Henry feel bad for even thinking any less-than-lawful thoughts. Ellie would probably just smirk at him and say something along the lines of “How much were the cops rewarded for catching a dumb thief?”

He heard footsteps on the concrete floor. He looked up as a voice called, “Oi, you!” Two police officers, or guards or whatever, stood at the bars to his cage. “You’re free to go,” said the one with sideburns. His second friend watched, the ghost of a faded grin still on his features but said nothing. He held a rather large box. Henry stupidly couldn’t put down the flash of surprise. Rupert laughed, squandering Henry’s faint hope and replacing it with hurt and thus indignance. “Not really.” Rupert glanced at his partner. “But you’ve got a package.”

Dave pushed the rather large box through the slot barely big enough for it. The cardboard creation, simply stamped with an address and name at the top and a “FRAGILE” stamp on the side, landed on the floor of his cell. Henry perked up. Someone sent him a package? Who would do that?

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Rupert puffed with a wave of his hand. “We’ve already checked it for anything useful. Haven’t we, Dave?”

Dave jolted. “Huh? Oh! Yeah, yeah! Of course I checked it!” Dave chuckled, his smile rather crooked and nervous. “I mean, if I didn’t check it, I’d lose my job, and I don’t wanna lose my job! …heh.”

Rupert stared at him and then walked away, throwing a flippant hand gesture at Henry. “See ya around.” He snickered to his partner, “Free to go. I thought that was pretty good, didn’t you?”

Henry, by now ignoring them, opened the box and lifted it away, revealing the… pink and decorative cake it held? He stared down at it, at its fancy writing and the two curled, slightly withered blue candles. As he neared, the top plane split and opened. Henry couldn’t judge what gadgets it held, as the inside was weirdly dark as if the ground fell away and turned into a cave beneath it. So, Henry did what any logical person would do and stuck his hand inside. A bottle, a phone, a drill as large as he, a file, a really compact serving dish? Oh, look at that, a teleporter.

Henry had a choice.

…well, files always worked, right? At least, that’s what the movies told him. And Howie. He was way too slick and charismatic and cautious. And he usually went to help complete or negotiate business deals more often than breaking into any banks. But he was smart! So, Henry plucked the boring little file from its case and started toward the bars of his cell. He hesitated. But… using the drill, he could go straight down and make a run for it after hitting the bottom floor. Then again, all of that would be a lot of work compared to the teleporter!

Henry pulled out the little gray box with a green panel split into three and a large red button in the center. A slightly crooked wire reached out the top ending in an orange bulb. Hmm… he was seven-ish stories up? Henry had watched the buttons on the elevator as he was pulled up to the story of which his cell resided. One story was about eleven feet. So, seven times eleven was seventy-seven. So, negative seventy-seven feet for his x axis. He could use maybe two yards to account for any fences or objects or overhangs, so six feet for his y axis. Then he didn’t need to move forward or back, so nothing on the z axis.

Henry shut his eyes and looked away as he pressed the last button. He felt the world press up against him as if the walls had suddenly decided to jump forward. The world stretched and then… it was gone? No, wait, it was back, and his feet were again on solid, dusty ground. He looked down to see his finger pressed down on the _z axis._ How far did he go? A hundred feet?

“Ready!”

He opened his eyes, barely resisting a wince at the bright sunlight that he could see unblocked by the scant clouds in the bright blue sky. His surroundings were slightly unfamiliar, though in the desert he found quite a few target posters behind him. He looked forward and straightened his back, only to look straight down the barrel of a gun in a firing range.

“Fire!”

**You just can’t seem to get the hang of that thing, can you?**

Henry frowned at the teleporter. He stuffed the experimental tech back in his pocket. As much as he’d love to pop outside, there was a chance he could appear on the road or in front of a cluster of guards. After all, he couldn’t see that close to the wall of the prison with his head pressed up against the bars. Besides, he hadn’t quite grasped the technology yet.

So, Henry took out the file with a mutinous grumble. Sneaky, difficult way it was.

Henry spent some time filing through one of the bars, slicing the bottom and near the top. He gasped and stumbled forward as the bar broke off and he dropped his file. Henry looked up as the policeman with sideburns, Rupert probably, spotted him and rushed forward. Henry spun on his heel to confront the man and swung. With a satisfying _clunk_ the metal bar hit him upside the head and the guard was knocked to the side, slamming into the wall and hitting the floor in a barely conscious heap. That felt kinda good. “Free to go” _that_ Rupert!

Henry heard the pattering of shoes but didn’t manage to turn in time for something to jab into his side. Electricity burst from the fangs of whatever had been jabbed into him with a good amount of force.

**Oh yeah, forgot to tell you! There’s another guard coming!**

Henry faced off against the policeman and, when he neared, swung. The man stumbled and hit the wall beside him before collapsing. The patter of shoes and a sharp jab in his mind from whatever instinct guided him forced him to swing his pole straight back. He swung without mercy, knocking the guy flat. His activated taser burned him before clattering to the ground. Henry turned around and winced upon seeing the half-conscious Dave beneath him.

The elevator door opened, and he heard a “Hey, he’s escaping!” Henry abandoned the pole and darted into what looked like a janitor’s closet. He spotted a tub, partially broken plastic hair, and a mop and yellow bucket. A large air conditioning tube with a vent cover ran through the ceiling above him. The vent was cracked open, as if not screwed down properly. Hanging on the wall was a belt of grenades.

Henry had a choice.

Henry grinned and snatched the belt of explosives. Oooh he’d always wanted to use one of these! Henry popped off one grenade, released the pin, and then swung open the door in one swift motion.

“Check yoself!” yelled one of the guards as Henry chucked the explosive and then rushed back inside, slamming the door.

He heard a quiet _tink_ and clapped his hands over his ears. A beeping noise, growing steadily quicker, came to his attention. It was a little too loud and close to be… Henry opened one eye and stared down at the armed explosive. “What the–?” The grenade exploded. Not only that, but its burst caused the other grenades to go off and

**Uhh… I don’t even know what to say about that one…**

He pulled his hand back, glaring at the grenades with a sudden hatred. Hatred of the grenades or hatred of his Not-Angel? Whatever, he still had a bad feeling. Henry glanced around his surroundings. Spotting the purple, partially broken chair, he pulled it up to a vent in one of the air conditioning tubes in the ceiling. He climbed onto the chair and didn’t hesitate to crawl inside. Memories of his adventures as a kid flooded his mind as he pulled the vent shut. He gulped and looked to the left and right. In the airship, he’d long since memorized and planned out the network of ventilation and garbage tubes. This, however, was new ground.

Henry had a choice.

Well, no other way than forward was he going to learn where he would need to go.

Henry started to turn left, but noise filtered through. The noise was quiet, muffled by the hard exterior of the ventilation system. Still, he was heavier as a six-foot-tall twenty-four-year-old man than he was a little eleven-year-old kid. He’d make a noise and then someone would investigate. So, he struggled and flipped himself over to go right, the quieter route, where the air was blowing toward him. Eventually, he came to an elbow joint that pointed directly up. It took a little more effort, and almost the breaking of his spine, but he was able to worm his way up. The whirring of an air conditioner was louder here and the cold air brisker. Upon encountering another elbow, this one turning straight back in the direction he came and filled with the noise of a large air conditioner, he pounded at the lining of the ventilation system. It eventually yielded, an entire segment breaking off. He heard a clatter as it hit cement once before going completely silent, as if it found its way off the platform. Or, as he heard no resounding clang later, the roof.

Henry squirmed out, blinking hard at the sudden rays of sunlight contrasting the blind darkness of his escape route.

He crawled onto the hot cement roof, hissing as the bare skin of his hands burned on the stone. He quickly pulled himself up and peered over the edge. Yep! That was quite the ways down!

A crate was behind him. He wormed his fingers under the lip of the top and pulled it open with surprising ease. Within was a harpoon launcher with an absurd amount of rope, a pair of plungers, a jetpack, and a parachute.

Henry had a choice.

Well, was there anything safer than a parachute to survive such a fall? Henry pulled on the backpack and walked to the edge. With one foot sticking out and eyes closed, he allowed himself to fall forward.

Hot wind slapped him hard in the face, yanking his clothes and skin back in the fierce air current as he fell. He tugged on a line in the backpack. Rather than a parachute, a few items–a bowling ball, glass bottle of soda, and notebook among them–fell out. Henry turned down, his eyes widening and a cold flash biting his veins.

He landed hard in the dust and dirt. Before he could register the pain of literally every bone in his body being broken and his insides probably ruptured, the bowling ball followed him down, its flight ending

**I think that was just a regular backpack. See what happens when you assume?**

Henry discarded the thought of a backpack. As nice as it was, there was something… fishy about it. Instead, he brought out the jetpack. Why parachute when you could just… fly away? Besides, he’d get much, _much_ farther away with a jetpack than he would a parachute.

He strapped himself in, rechecked his harness, and stepped up to the edge of the building. He held tight to the control sticks, staring fiercely into the distance, and–nothing happened.

Henry let go of one of the sticks and then yelped as the jetpack burst off. He grabbed the stick and attempted to control his flight, but he only ended up flying in a jagged, looped, messy path before flying straight at the building.

He crashed through the wall of his old cell. His body, broken and crushed by the cement and power of the jetpack, tore a jagged dent in the floor.

“Oh, look. You’re back.”

**It takes many hours of Jetpack training before you’re able to operate one.**

Henry discarded the jetpack with a disgruntled huff. No parachute, no backpack, what now? He pulled out the plungers. As cool as a jetpack would be, he had no idea how to use it. Maybe he’d learn later. For now, he had a prison to escape.

Henry stuck the plungers into the side of the building and carefully swung himself down. He pulled out one plunger and, as his body dangled and offered no resistance, stuck the plunger into the wall and brought out the first.

Eventually, the man made it past the first story. He let go, falling past the raised foundation and onto the desert ground below.

The sneaky escapist looked around and, grinning, rushed off into the desert. He had some ways to go before he could reach the bank vault, but he could make it. He’d find his scooter and then bam, he was back in business!

…he’d need to grab his stuff and ditch his apartment. Well, it was early in September. So, he was due to come back home soon, anyway? No, he was due to come back during December. He wasn’t scurrying home after breaking out of prison. He needed to reconstitute himself, find a new place, and pull off a _successful_ solo mission.

Henry found his scooter in the desert. He didn’t have very much to pack, knowing his apartment was extremely temporary. Henry took a shower and changed into something more presentable and filled his suitcase. His laptop case was separate, but he wouldn’t dare leave _that_ behind. He scrounged through his apartment, pulling up every last stash of money, information, and little treats and bobbles he forgot he’d horded.

When he was satisfied with the apartment, Henry brought his things outside, tied down his suitcase and laptop case to his scooter, and dropped by the currently closed landlord’s office. He scribbled down a form releasing his hold on the apartment before leaving.

Henry rolled up to a bus station and sat on a bench. He leaned back and flipped through his phone. He needed a good place to stay, somewhere with potential. Cheap, small, and unassuming, he’d be somewhere he could duck his head and lay low. The place would need to be somewhere in the same city or near a city with something valuable. There was something priceless–well, expensive as priceless would defeat the purpose–in that place that he could hopefully pull off a raid.

Well, museums were always good, right?

Henry searched some medium museums; not too big to be swarming in guards, not too small to hold few things of value. A town over, he found a few promising places. With the tree cover from surrounding forests, there was potential. He might not be able to run his scooter through a forest, but he could duck and cover or climb trees whenever necessary. Unless they unleashed the hounds, but why would they throw dogs into a search over something that wasn’t about a murder?

Anyway, there was a spot with some cheap apartments, not very many stars tagged onto the name, and near a big city with a couple hot spots. Museums, jewelry stores, and banks that weren’t vaults being among them. Neat! He had a plan!

…when should he tell everyone else, the curious part of him wondered. How would they react to him escaping prison? Well, Ellie and Charles wouldn’t react well, and maybe not even Dad Reginald and Dad Right for being caught. But he’d made his way out mostly undetected and definitely not followed. He didn’t leave a paper trail. He didn’t even have a banking account, and his papers were definitely going to lead to dead ends. Since Henry wasn’t in prison for murder, they might just tack up his name on a wanted poster or something and leave it at that. Probably. Hopefully.

Henry, growing ever more tired, ordered some tickets on the closest train he could book as well as a hotel nearby. He’d look for apartments tomorrow.

 _So much for Charles and Ellie_. The thought hit Henry like a brick. He couldn’t just drop by their place or say hello. He couldn’t go back on Discord or call them. He was a criminal, a thief, a known one. They’d hate how he got caught and how he broke out of prison. An ache stole his chest upon thinking of Ellie and Charles. Well, he still had his family in the Toppats, though. Just maybe not at this second. Should he say goodbye to James? He liked the man, but… again… escaped criminal.

Henry sighed and leaned back on the bench, shutting his eyes. Now that he thought about it, being an escaped criminal kinda sucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first version was Badass Bustout. :P
> 
> The Not-Angel Narrator is back! I'm trying to keep it between him not being able to tell the future and him know what is going to fail and what is going to win. After all, if Henry knew exactly what happened in the fails, he could change them. For example, in "Infiltrating the Airship," during the scene in the Vault in the "Pure Blood Thief" (Grappling Hook) line, one of the ways to get the Romanian Ruby is with a Gravity Manipulator. Henry accidentally launches the ruby rather than pulling it toward him. If he remembered all that, the next time he could just... flip the switch and win that way. But with the teleporter, it goes across space and dimension, so maybe he remembers more about that one?


	29. Just... Epic

Henry stood perched upon a hill, one foot on his scooter and one on the damp grass, staring down at the building he’d read so much about. He’d left the news on in the background, as he usually did to keep some background noise, when the story of a giant on hundred and twelve-million-dollar diamond caught his attention. But Henry had seen that glimmering gem and there was nothing on this big blue earth that would– _could_ –stop him, now.

Henry took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and grinned. He’d since taken off his hat and dressed in something more loner-rough-and-tumble worthy–his second favorite gray turtleneck and jeans–as he knew things may get nasty and he’d rather not scuff up his suit and hat. Much, anyway. He still had a few years of life ahead of him until he became as scrappy as Gremlin or The Scrapper. Besides, this was a loner mission, one of his own making. May as well dress for the occasion! …right?

Henry had a choice.

Henry swung around to the back of the museum, parked his scooter some distance away, and approached the wall. He looked up and then down. So, he could go up. Henry had obtained a few things that could help with that; Jumble Hoppers–a pair of white boots with red wings that held springs on the bottom–an antigravity cap–which fit like a helmet with a golden dial on the front–and his untrustworthy teleporter. Henry didn’t exactly know _why_ the teleporter was untrustworthy, but there was a deep feeling in his gut every time he looked at it. He still vaguely recalled how to use it but was not over fond of it.

Then again, if he didn’t want to risk falling from an insane height, he could just go _through_ the wall. A shrink ray was in his arsenal; another machine tested by Gadget Gabe who Henry followed religiously on social media. As there was a crack in the foundation, he might be able to crawl through and get in that way. He also had a liquidificator, which would probably be good if he wanted to turn into a liquid? And, of course, buried in his Purse of Holding, was a pickax.

Henry had a choice.

…honestly, what was wrong with the tried and true method: a pickax? Oh, right, because it was tried and true due to how old it was and how much work was required. So, Henry plucked a little gray device with a blue sliding button, a red dial, and a gray handle for grip. A paper attached to the back gleefully stated “LIQUIDIFICATOR” “Turn yourself into a liquid and bend your molecules around or through any object!” There were a few panels, with one behind a human with a bendy aura, the second a wall with a blob on either side, and the third with a perfectly okay looking human smiling. “10/10 It’s fantastically easy to use’ -Gadget Gabe” decorated the bottom above another few panels of instructions.

Henry turned the dial, of course to near its max because, as Ellie said, “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing!” Henry could feel his solid form start to feel… hazy or soft or something of the sort. Before he could move to the wall, his entire body shifted not from flesh and bone, but to water and he splashed upon the ground. His body was supposed to be a liquid, not water!

**What’d you think was going to happen?**

Henry put away the device. As much as he’d love to turn into a liquid, was there anything stopping him from not being able to become a solid again? Well, as Henry didn’t feel like going to the roof, and the shrink ray presented the same problem of “Who would turn him back?” Henry pulled out the old tool.

He hadn’t been chipping away at the wall for a few seconds before a green, blocky monster rushed up behind him. He tried to turn and defend himself, but the monster–rather than charging into him or biting him or something– _exploded_. Henry was pushed into the wall, surprisingly alive but not without bruising, and into a hole that now seeped the chilly night air into the museum.

He blinked the dizziness from his eyes and looked around. WW II items and pictures decorated the scenery. A large bomb lay on the floor next to him, a plane propped up on the alter near him, and a gun in a case to his far right against the wall. There were two security guards, one Henry vaguely recognized though from where he wasn’t certain.

Henry had a choice. Time, weirdly, didn’t stop.

“…yeah, so, apparently there was something in that cake, and, uh, he used it to escape. And then I got fired,” the second guard, younger than the first with a smaller, flatter hat simply stating his status as a security guard, said. Oh, _now_ Henry recognized him! That was Dave!

…aw, fuck, that was Dave.

“Pretty lame, huh? Yeah, I don’t really like this–what?”

“Ugh,” the first guard, older with a taller hat that had a badge clipped to it, grunted and rolled his eyes. “Please. Shut up.”

Henry pouted. Wow, okay. So, Henry might have gotten Dave kicked from the police force, but the guy had been genuinely nice to him when he was looking for his parents! No need to be so rude.

“Oh,” Dave chuckled, a hand on the back of his neck. “I was just trying to have a conversation. You know? Since, I mean, we’re partners so I just-just wanted to get-get to know each other a little bit.” There was a pause. “You know?” Another even more awkward silence passed. “I just wanted to have a conversation. Just, you know, just to lighten things up, I mean… what’s gonna happen in a museum? I mean really. Do you feel a draft, at all?”

The first guard stiffened and turned around. Both pairs of eyes found Henry and the first guard pulled out his gun. “Hey!”

Henry jolted. Wait, wha–

**This conversation can’t be THAT interesting.**

“Oh,” Dave chuckled, a hand to the back of his neck. “I was just trying to have a conversation. You know? Since, I mean, we’re partners so I just-just wanted to get-get to know each other a little bit.”

Henry picked up the bomb and threw it. Dave yelled as it landed on his foot, completely inert. The first guard whipped his gun around and shot Henry

**Why would they keep live bombs in a museum?**

“Oh,” Dave chuckled, a hand to the back of his neck. “I was just trying to have a conversation. You know? Since, I mean, we’re partners so I just-just wanted to get-get to know each other a little bit.”

Henry rolled out of the floor in the foundation and wall, grabbed the gun out of its case, and rushed to meet the security guards. They flinched and Dave ducked, weaponless.

_Click! Click!_

Henry looked down at the fake gun in his hands. The first guard gave Henry a flat look at pointed his gun at him. Henry blinked. Welp.

**Quick! Pretend you were joking!**

**_ …Good one, right guys? _ **

“Oh,” Dave chuckled, a hand to the back of his neck. “I was just trying to have a conversation. You know? Since, I mean, we’re partners so I just-just wanted to get-get to know each other a little bit.”

Henry grabbed the plane from its pedestal and threw it as hard as he could. The first guard barked as the buzzing machine hit him upside the head and kept moving. Dave, for some reason unarmed, bolted. “I-I’ve got to warn some–”

Unfortunately, the column he ran face-first into disagreed with the notion.

Henry passed the injured, unmoving guards and hid behind the column. A nightguard leaned a doorway straight into the exhibit. However, an upright sign pointed to the “Retro Room” across from Henry. The nightguard blinked and his head bowed. He caught himself asleep and jerked upright again, searching his surroundings. Unfortunately, his eyes went fuzzy and his head bowed again. He snapped himself awake, only to slip off again.

Henry had a choice.

Henry, seeing the nightguard slip off, bolted to the exhibit with the Tunisian Diamond.

The nightguard jolted awake upon seeing Henry, who froze. Okay, well maybe

**Hm. Must be a light sleeper.**

Henry looked from around the column at the dozing guard. He bolted into the Retro Room as quietly, yet quickly, as he could. The room was small but decorated with seemingly random items. He recognized the ocarina and flute on one table with a fancy looking conductor’s wand, and then a spiked blue shell and a large golden puzzle piece on other displays. There was a crowbar on display, which would be great, as well as a green and white Goodball and giant yellow-and-red spotted mushroom. Henry checked out the door to see two security guards.

Henry had a choice.

Well, a crowbar would get rid of the guards long enough for him to snatch the diamond at the end of the room. The goodball and then what looked like a mushroom with legs encased a glass tube might work to fight them off. Weeeeell, the crowbar was probably going to be more reliable.

Henry approached the tool. When he reached his hand out, a cooing noise above him stopped him and Henry pulled his hand back. He looked up and around him, but no other entities lurked in the room and only a vent was above. He reached again, only for the noise to appear a second time, louder. Just as he went to grab the crowbar, the vent whipped open and dozens of giant, squishy looking crabs poured from the vent, landing in a haphazard pile on top of Henry. Henry, unable to breathe and slowly being crushed the more weight was added, struggled to get out. The cooing, chittering things didn’t move.

**Man, I HATE it when that happens.**

Henry looked away from the crowbar, a weird feeling of disgust creeping up on him. As much as he’d like to take on two guards at once and probably others from around the building after they set out the alarm with nothing but a crowbar, that might not be a great idea. So, Henry approached the mushroom. He went to grab it, but his fingers slipped right through. The mushroom absorbed into his skin. Suddenly, the room was tiny, and his head nearly touched the ceiling. Henry grinned and busted himself through the wall. The two security guards whipped around and shot at him, but the bullets didn’t hurt the now giant Henry. He stepped right past them, half shattering an egg as he did so. The little critter within–a flying creature, perhaps a dinosaur of some kind–cried and flew out. Somewhere nearby, one of the guards got a hold of, and turned, a canon. The dinosaur swooped down and grabbed another security guard nearby.

Henry smashed the case with the diamond and held it up. Okay, now to get out of–

A canon ball hit Henry square in the chest, and he was thrown back. He hit the corner and slumped down, the regular size of a human and the diamond out of reach. He pushed the canon ball off himself and looked around. Pieces of the building fell, blocking a doorway as Henry’s grand entrance, and then hit to the wall, collapsed some of the ceiling. The angered dinosaur thing kept swooping down on people but didn’t pick anyone else up.

The alarms of the museum wailed. Henry got to his feet and looked around. Okay, he could use the chaos to his advantage! All that he needed to do was grab the diamond and run. As long as nothing else significant happened to get in his way, he’d be good!

Something crashed through the roof and into the ground like a chaos seeking missile. A giant robot stood up, breaking an even larger hole in the roof. Henry watched on with wide eyes and an open mouth as the robot went on a rampage, destroying parts of the roof and laser cutting straight into the museum. He found the diamond, but also an exit. He looked between the two, finding the security guards that would have been after him now running or pinned by rubble and that squawking animal still flying about.

After another crash signaling wreckage falling closer to Henry, he bolted. Welp, bye diamond, have a nice life!

Henry was tempted to grab his scooter, but he’d need to go the other way around the museum as he bolted through the opposite side exit. He wasn’t staying near that place a second longer than necessary, so down the road he ran. He stumbled as the ground shook beneath an explosion as the robot continued its rampage.

Eventually, Henry stumbled to a stop, huffing and puffing and resting his hands on his knees. Oh, Jesus Christ that took a lot out of him. He shut his eyes and bowed his head. Well, after all that, he didn’t even get the–

_Thunk!_

Henry looked up. The diamond stuck in the ground, pointed end down, sitting at an angle. Henry looked back. The smoking rubble was void of the robot, finally. Henry grinned and rushed to his new treasure. He set a foot upon it and puffed out his chest. Welp. Not only was he up a diamond, but also a just plain _epic_ story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was "Intruder on a Scooter." Man, my favorite Rank name right next to "Special BROvert Ops"!
> 
> Getting close to the end game and boy-oh-boy am I feeling a ton of mixed emotions.
> 
> So, I'm making a thing. "Escaping the Prison" and "Stealing the Diamond" both had different endings. I had different headcanons of the canon story that could have been implemented into the main story. While "DPDS" is lighter-toned, mostly slice-of-life, some action, and some darker tones with most conflict being internal, "OtBP" (new one) will have more darker tones, neutral environment expected of a tight-knit clan of criminals, morally good and evil antagonists, action, more realistic portrayals of childhood trauma/abuse, external conflict, and headcanons I have in the canon story. Just like "DPDS" isn't all flowers and roses, "OtBP" isn't all shadows. I'll definitely be posting "OtBP" somewhere because it's super fun to write. But I wonder, would anyone be chill with seeing "Off the Beaten Path" on AO3 or just a link to Twine/some other program? Bottom line is, I have done all of this, the novels, one-shots, and hours of research because I love writing, I love Henry Stickmin, and I use fanfiction as a _huge_ source of practice and involvement in the community. But there are two things I would rather shoot myself in the foot then willingly do: milk an idea/story/etc, and write sensitive topics insensitively. If I were to post "Off the Beaten Path" it would be after "Different Path, Different Story" is completely done.
> 
> Sample text: ["Off the Beaten Path" Chapters 1 and 2](https://sta.sh/01ag98vhfzfb). It's hard to get a feel of the general story, but you can sorta see where some things differ. "[Cold Treat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27427045)" is a more accurate representation of the writing style.
> 
> (Posting a little early, might be missing for a little while. At a time, I'll be outside. 


	30. Glimmer, Sparkle

Henry plopped down on his couch. He let out a long sigh, which turned into a whistle. He turned his head, finding the diamond sitting nice and snug beside the door to his room. He’d need a better, less conspicuous way to transport that thing. A shrink-and-grow could work, as long as he handled it properly. They were very finicky after all.

He gave himself a few moments to rest before taking out his phone. He dialed a couple of numbers.

_Briiiing… briiiiing… briiiing…_

“Huh?” a heavy mumble came in answer.

“Howie? That you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Howie yawned. “What’re ya doin’ up so late?”

“Have you watched the news recently?” Henry prompted, his light smile turning into a Cheshire Cat grin.

“Um… kinda, maybe,” Howie mumbled. “Why?”

Henry stifled a giggle. “Well, I was watching the news a couple of days ago. At least on the local news, the mayor presented something really nice at the museum.”

“Oh, no. Henry, what did ya do?”

Henry looked over at the diamond, its face unfortunately dull from dust and dirt. “Something _amazing_ , Howie. You won’t believe it if I tell you. Can you pick me up tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? So, Ah get ta sleep?” Howie asked.

“Yep!” _Henry probably wasn’t, though._

“Good. Talk ta ya in the mornin’ li’l buddy.”

_Click._

Henry chuckled and put away his phone. Alright, relax time over! Time to wash off his new prize and pack his bags! He was going home with maybe a record but an even better haul!

Though, should he? As Henry dropped by the sink to pick up a damp rag, he thought to himself the potential consequences of his actions. He might be able to bring it home, but what if Dad Reginald wanted him to put it in the vault? This was a solo mission of Henry’s; he wasn’t using Clan resources or teaming up with any other Clan member. He’d done it all himself, even living on his own and not even touching the floor of the airship in months! So, in all rights, this diamond was _his_ and it was going in _his_ room. He could boast about it, but that wasn’t going to change the fact that the Tunisian Diamond was his.

Eh, he could get Howie’s opinion in the morning. Henry had a few bags packed along with what would hopefully be the device that would allow him to make the Tunisian Diamond fit in his pocket. With that, he’d be able to move back into his room and break out the diamond in just a few hours. He’d get to greet his dads and the rest of the Clan after months out on his own. Now, it had been less than a year, and he knew to most people that wasn’t long at all. But without going to breakfast with Howie and meeting up with his Dads, without taking orders and interacting with the Clan all day, and without going to bed and popping out his laptop to play with Charles and Ellie in his small, comfy room, six months felt like a _century._

* * * * *

Henry had just finished eating a breakfast burrito when his phone rang. “Hey?”

“Howdy! Ah’m just about half an hour away. What about you?”

“Almost there.” Henry got up, tossed his trash in the bin, and then hopped onto his scooter, his backpack over his shoulders and laptop case tied to his vehicle. Henry’s scooter popped off onto the road with a quiet _vrrrrr_. “Talk to you there?”

“Talk to ya there.”

_Click._

Henry put away his phone, careful to keep his balance as he let go of the handlebars with one hand. He soon turned off the road and down a thin trail into the woods. Soon enough, he found the pod to barely fit on the biking trail, but it fit all the same. The door opened to reveal Howie, dressed up and spiffy as always.

Henry laughed and hopped off his scooter. “Howie! It’s been forever!”

“Six months, Li’l buddy,” Howie reminded him, but accepted Henry’s hug all the same. “Whoof! Ah almost forgot you were bigger than me.”

Henry let go with a quiet chuckle. “Not by that much.” _He was a few inches taller, but Henry also ran on more foot missions carrying out big hauls and fighting off people._ “But six months feels like forever when you’re away from family, you know?”

“Oh, it sure does,” Howie agreed, rather serious. Then the look was gone with a coy smile. “Now what about that amazin’ thing ya were tryin’ ta sell me on?”

“Oh! Well, I got it from the museum. It’s uh, destroyed. The museum got flattened by a giant robot. But I still managed to nick this!”

Henry took the diamond out of his pocket and set it down. He popped off the little microchip-shaped device, allowing the “legs” of it to let go of the smooth surface of the shiny gem. The Tunisian Diamond was again it’s true size and now glittered in the sun.

“Holy _fuck,_ ” Howie breathed, his eyes wide as moons. “How’d ya manage _that_?”

Henry smirked. “By breaking into the museum, causing a little chaos, and bolting.”

“Okay, this is a story Ah gotta hear!”

“And you will hear it,” Henry promised. “Just, one question. If I bring this home and someone sees it, will it still be mine or do you think Dad Reginald will tell me to chuck it in the vault?”

Howie shook his head. “You crazy? Ya not only went on a solo mission, but you were successful, got away undetected Ah presume, and brought back a giant haul consisting of one thing? Ya didn’t tell me ya brought any Clan tech, so the answer is: that thing is yours, li’l buddy, and yer gonna be the talk a’ the ship for the next month at _least._ Now, let’s getcha back to the ship before someone ’round here misses ya too awfully bad.”

“I can get behind that,” stated Henry as he shrunk his diamond and pocketed it. He unstrapped his laptop bag from the scooter he then folded and joined Howie in the pod. He sat down with a huff. “I can’t _wait_ to get back to the Clan. Has anything changed since I was gone?”

Howie nodded. “We got a couple a’ new recruits. One wasn’t even a former criminal, y’know. It’s crazy. Chief hasn’t made any new rules or nothin’. Now how ’bout that story?”

Henry laughed. “Alright, alright! So, there I was, behind the museum…” Henry’s storytelling came with a few exaggerated gestures, but he kept them to a minimum as there wasn’t a lot of room in the pod. “…and then a friggin’ _robot_ crashes through the roof and starts blowing up the place! I decided I should probably continue living, so I ran,” Henry confessed. “Anyway, I made it really far down the road before I was too tired to keep moving. I stopped to catch my breath and then _bam!_ The Tunisian Diamon rockets out of the museum and hits the ground a couple of feet away! Not only did I get the diamond, but I also didn’t get to be crushed because if I was just a few feet to the right, I would be paste on the side of the road.”

Howie shook his head. “Only you’d be able ta go through somethin’ like that an’ _survive_. Ah believe ya, li’l buddy, that’s too wild to make up.”

The pod slowed and came to a stop. The door opened.

Howie allowed Henry to leave first, donning his backpack and holding his scooter and laptop case. “Now, ya wanna drop that stuff at yer room b’fore meetin’ the chief again?”

Henry nodded. “I don’t know if Dad Reginald and Dad Right will let me go if I meet them now. Honestly, I don’t even know if blowing up a museum was the correct thing to do. Not that I did that, of course.”

Howie snorted. “Knowin’ you, yer very presence probably attracted it.”

“Hah! If I could summon giant building eating robots by causing a panic, I would’ve met that robot a _long_ time ago.”

Henry dropped off his stuff at his room, though he kept his diamond in his pocket. Dad Reginald and Dad Right would probably want to get a look at it. Henry still felt a little nervous despite the logic both he and Howie made. He really liked this haul, after all. It was his greatest catch yet!

Henry found his dads in the Bridge, piloting the airship. The first person to see them was Thomas, who was at one of the stations of buttons and panels and dials but looked up upon the door opening. “Henry! You’re back!”

Dad Reginald’s head snapped back and Dad Right followed, albeit a little more slowly to be less life-threatening. “Henry!” Dad Reginald pressed a few buttons and got up to meet him in the middle. “I knew you would be back today, but I didn’t know this early! Where’ve you been? You stopped telling me a few weeks ago. How are you?”

“Dad, I’m _fine_ ,” Henry reassured him, ducking out of his grasp. “Actually, more than fine! I had to leave Red Mesa, for a few reasons as you know. But I didn’t need to go that far. I took that time to stake out my next mission and found something you will never believe!”

Dad Right looked at Dad Reginald, whose eyes went wide. “Henry, that wasn’t _you_ was it?”

Henry blinked, his excitement replaced by confusion. “What?”

“The museum blowing up,” Dad Reginald clarified. “That wasn’t you? You weren’t caught in it? You didn’t cause it?”

“Nooo! No, no, I didn’t blow up the museum!” Henry chuckled. “And I didn’t get blown up in the museum, obviously. Uh, how much did you hear about that? I didn’t know the news would pick up on that so quickly!”

Dad Reginald shook his head. “No, we didn’t hear about it on the news. A few of our people were going there to steal the Tunisian Diamond. They arrived there two hours ago to a pile of rubble.”

Henry snorted and put a hand to his mouth. “Oh my God that must be the weirdest timing. Dad, that diamond wasn’t lost in the robot destruction.” He pulled the miniature diamond out of his pocket and held it up.

His dads looked it over in his hand. Dad Reginald muttered, “That’s a little small to be… oh, you used a shrink-and-grow on it. That’s the Tunisian Diamond. You stole the Tunisian Diamond!” Dad Reginald gasped. “And you didn’t know about the raid?”

Henry shook his head. “Nope! I haven’t been here in months, Dad. If I did, I wouldn’t have gone after it, probably. I would’ve just asked to be on the mission.”

“Well, then! We need to know what happened,” Dad Reginald stated, glancing back at Dad Right, who held a slightly amused smile. Though the action was so small it was difficult to see.

Henry giggled and put away the artifact. “Well, it started with me watching the local news.” This time, Henry got to use grand gestures, not being confined in a pod this time. He didn’t change the story from the one he told Howie, of course, so Howie could verify that was indeed the story Henry told him. Henry could still see the giant missile-throwing, laser-hand, chainsaw wielding metal monster as if it was still in front of him–or behind him, technically. Henry had not been in front of the robot for very long. He still valued his life quite a bit.

At the end of Henry’s wild, but extremely true, story, Dad Reginald shook his head and looked at Dad Right. “That… was way different than what we expected. Henry, you got that artifact, but you could have died! Several times, if you remember the details so vividly!”

“But I didn’t. I’m careful!” Henry reassured him. “I knew what I was doing, I brought the right tools for the job, and I fled when I knew I was beat. And then I _still_ got the diamond!”

Dad Right stated, “That was a tough mission.”

Dad Reginald sighed and nodded. “Yes, yes it was. Henry, that was a great haul, and we are very proud of you. But please, don’t risk so much on a solo mission. No one was there to have your back!”

Henry chuckled. “Ah, don’t worry, Dad. I’m pretty sure I won’t be going _that_ wild. …are there any missions?”

Howie snorted. Dad Right gave him a short shake of his head, though Henry doubted it was a denial of an available missions. Dad Reginald set a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Tomorrow. We will talk about it tomorrow. For now, rest and get settled back in.”

“Wait at least twenty-four hours before getting in trouble. Good plan!” Henry grinned, though it was more out of mischief than joy. He was still happy, of course, especially upon receiving an exasperated sigh from Dad Reginald. “I’ll see you later then, Dad Reginald! Dad Right!” He turned on his heel and left the Bridge, Howie hiding a snicker at his side.

“You’re the best younger cousin and friend a man could ask fer, ya know that?”

“Yes, I do know that. Same to you, Howie!” Henry elbowed the man, chuckling as he threw Howie off balance. Howie returned with a nudge of his shoulder, pushing Henry off balance.

Ah, man. As much as resting after a big heist was fun, it really got boring fairly quickly. He ended up strolling around the airship, greeting people he hadn’t seen in months and catching up on the current news and gossip. This would have gained unending teasing from Ellie, verifying his love of gossiping “like an old fish wife.” Charles would definitely have _tried_ put a stop to Ellie’s teasing, being like a family reunion, but only put himself in the crossfire between them. Rather, before Ellie. Henry knew both of them and what jokes and jabs he could get away with that would still be funny to them. Charles tended to have a lower threshold than Ellie. The thought of Charles and Ellie sent a pang of longing into him. Being in the airship, he could successfully scramble his location, masking his IP and allowing him to talk freely without fear of being tracked.

Maybe… maybe he’d spent enough time in waiting and a call wouldn’t hurt. He should at least wait until the evening, first, when he usually called them.

Over lunch, he and Howie got to catch up further. Catching up as in Howie learned something new.

“Oh, hey, have ya met the new prisoner?” asked Howie.

Henry tipped his head. “New prisoner? Did I miss something?”

Howie nodded. “Yeah, on that mission fer the Tunisian Diamond. A security guard almost tripped up a few people while they were investigatin’. So, they captured him and now he’s in the Brig.”

“Ah, well. That doesn’t sound good for him,” Henry mused.

“Not at all. Ya gonna eat yer fries or what?”

Henry pulled his plate closer to himself. “I will, stop eyeing my food!”

* * * * *

Henry walked along the catwalk set above the Brig and Engine Room. He looked down at the red-metal room. It was empty, with three cells lining each wall going from the door to the Engine Room to the door to the Vault. He couldn’t see the windows from up where he was, nor could he hear anything. He knew he shouldn’t be visiting the prisoners, especially when it wasn’t his day to bring the prisoner a meal. Look what happened _last time_ Henry befriended a prisoner, after all. Still, after his recent jump into prison life, albeit temporarily, he couldn’t help it.

Curious at the lack of noise, Henry took a ladder down in the Engine Room and walked into the Brig. He didn’t need to search for long to find their new prisoner; a scuffed-up nightguard in the cell closest to the Engine Room. He instantly felt a twinge of pity for the man. The growling of the engine day and night wasn’t the greatest neighboring noise to have. It was muffled by the metal wall and the engine’s upgrades to lower its noise level, thankfully. The man’s back was to him, so he couldn’t see anything but the dark uniform and slightly crooked baseball cap.

“Hey?” Henry called.

The security guard tensed. His head turned, and he looked up at Henry. As his puppy brown eyes met Henry’s, he gasped. “ _Henry?_ ”

“Dave!” Henry returned. “What are you doing here?”

“What are _you_ doing here?” Dave echoed, jumping to his feet. His eyes flicked up to Henry’s hat and then back to him. His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you… a Toppat?”

“Eh, yes,” he answered. “Anyway, are you the guy that tried to stop our team from getting the diamond?”

Dave nodded. “I saw the mayor doing some shady stuff, so I went to investigate, thinking he was embezzling funds or something. I found proof he was working with the Toppat Clan to steal the diamond he’d been showing off in the museum where I worked. It was pretty difficult digging that stuff out when half the museum collapsed onto itself, but I managed it. I got… captured before I could bring it to light. Why are you here?”

“I live here. My dads work here and adopted me.”

“Ooooooh,” Dave said. “So, did you ever figure out what happened to your, uh, first parents?”

“Dead,” Henry answered simply. “My mother went MIA and my father was KIA.”

“Sorry to hear that, man.”

“Meh. I didn’t know them, so it doesn’t really matter, anymore.” Henry thought for a moment. “So, uh… sorry about this, by the way. I thought you were a nice guy.”

“Oh, yeah, you, too. It’s fine, I guess? I mean, you didn’t lock me up here.”

…

“So–” they both started.

Dave stopped and waved his hand.

Henry cleared his throat. “Right. So, uh… I know it’s pretty empty in there and all that. It really isn’t that much of a blast. So, what do you say if I spend some time here?”

“That would be nice of you. Yeah.”

“What did you want to say?”

“Oh, right. Well, I was just wondering what you were planning to do with me? One of your, uh, pals or coworkers or something said I’d be here a long time for interfering with their plans. But he wasn’t that specific.”

Henry grimaced. “Riiiiight. Well, I’m really sorry, Dave. We’ll just keep you in here until Dad decides otherwise, I guess.”

“‘Dad?’ Is your father high-ranking or…?”

“One of them is Chief Reginald and the other is Right Hand Man, his deputy.”

“ _Oh._ ”

“Yeeeeah. Well, Dad Reginald was just the deputy when he adopted me, and Dad Right had been third-in-line and his best friend. So, I could talk to them. They’ll take me more seriously now that I’m an adult, they have to. Not like last time.”

Dave grimaced. “Last time?”

“We had a guard from the Wall locked up here. Do you know about that place? It’s a complex in Canada. Anyway, he got caught breaking into the airship and trying to stealthily kill people. Namely myself, but I didn’t know that. They locked him up here and… well, I was too young to understand.”

“I don’t see him here, though…”

“…he’s gone. Forever.”

“Oh.”

“He stayed here for about six or seven months, something like that, before he kidnapped Katie and me. He managed to escape because of me. But! That won’t happen to you. The whole kidnapping part, I mean. You’re a good guy, Dave.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

A thought popped into Henry’s head. “Oh, and… thanks. For not taunting me when I was in prison. It meant a lot.”

“You’re welcome. It’s wrong to attack prisoners, y’know?”

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, airship! Hello, diamond! Hello, prisoner who is ironically that one guy who guarded Henry! Hello, hamburger!
> 
> Dave is a good boi who deserves only the best things in life.


	31. Balance and Discord

Henry took a deep breath. He sat in front of his laptop on his desk, the technology plugged into the wall and his headphones fit snuggly onto his head. He set his phone face-down beside his laptop. His browser was open with two tabs: his e-mail and an empty tab. He was on the empty tab, his fingers on the keyboard, biting his lip. Henry shut his eyes and typed in a URL. He had hardly typed in a few letters before it was auto filled.

With one last long, deep breath, he pressed enter. He didn’t even need to type his full username or any part of his password.

Two of the three people he knew were logged on. One of them was _not_ Howie. In fact, it was rarely Howie that was online.

Henry didn’t message them. He clicked on the icon with the rose, and then the one with the helicopter. He found the group chat. Henry scrolled way, _way_ up and started to read the messages he’d missed out on.

Some of the talk was the usual; their lives were going well, Ellie nearly flipped her motorcycle and crashed headlong into a semi-truck but managed to somehow regain enough control to not die. She didn’t escape uninjured, but she wasn’t dead or hospitalized for very long. Charles went on a mission he wasn’t allowed to discuss, but it involved explosions and a SAM Turret but also an unfortunate lack of ramming his helicopter into things.

Eventually, the two asked each other about Henry and called to him on the group chat.

Henry assumed they talked in private, because their conversation suddenly steered clear of Henry. His heart clenched and he could barely keep himself from looking away. There was no such thing as tone in a chat log, but he could almost _feel_ the emotion behind it; Charles not using as many exclamation marks and smiley faces, and Ellie using fewer punctuation marks in general and a couple of misspelled words. The topics were pretty basic; again, their lives and then discussions of the games they’d just played. Some plans to meet up while Ellie was in the area.

Ellie said in the chat, “He doesn’t have an apartment in New Mexico anymore.”

That was the last time Henry was referenced for a long time. In fact, the pain in his chest gripped harder and Henry clenched his teeth to keep his composure. Did they really forget about him so quickly?

Their chat slowly returned to its usual cheer, though there were some noticeably different types of speech in places. Henry let out a choked laugh that decided to turn into a sob as he saw Charles’ account had been hijacked and spewed random nonsense about how Ellie was the superior being and how he felt very, _very_ bad for choosing such an awful movie last time they met up. After about ten minutes passed, the messages stopped and then after an “I didn’t say any of that! >:0” went back to normal.

Henry didn’t know how long he sat there reading the chat, but he managed to get to the end. The last few lines were said just a couple of hours ago. Why Ellie and Charles were using the group chat of three people when it was only them talking, Henry didn’t know.

_R0secutter88 is typing…_

Henry looked down at the bottom of the chat box at the sudden movement.

“Jesus Christ, how many twelve-year-old boys are online? Isn’t it past their bedtimes?”

_Copter_Boi is typing…_

“I’m pretty sure there were a couple of girls that just sounded like that. :P They had some skills! And weren’t screaming swears into the mic! :D”

“lol Yeah, too bad we don’t really friend people online, right? I wonder if they’ll be online tomorrow. You’re good tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah! :)”

“Should we go back to that server? I got a headache three minutes into playing with them. >_>”

“I mean, if you want, we can just play another game. /shrug”

“True. I kinda like that server. wait, someone else is on”

“Is it Joan? Is she finally back from hiding??”

“Holy shit”

“What?”

“I think its henry”

“Henry????? Henry, are you back????”

Henry took his hand off his mouth and typed, “yeh”

_R0secutter and Copter_Boi are typing…_

“OH MY GOD HENRY WHAT THE FUCK”

“Yuor’e bcak!!! :D It’s bene forever!!”

“WHERE’VE YOU BEEN JESUS CHRIST”

“I can’t spell omg Im sorry ;-;”

“WE’VE BEEN FREAKING OUT HOLY FUCK”

“We’re not mad, though!!! I promise!!”

Henry swallowed and, thanking God above he’d muted his mic, typed, “hey, sorry”

“wHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘hey, sorry’? You fucking scared us, man! WE thought you were dead or something!”

“Are you okay?? We haven’t heard from you in a long time, and you haven’t logged on, either to Discord or anything.”

“I’ve just been gone,” Henry explained. “I didn’t think you wanted to talk after all that, you know?”

_R0secutter88 and Copter_Boi are typing…_

_Copter_Boi is typing…_

_…_

_R0secutter88 is typing…_

_R0secutter88 and Copter_Boi are typing…_

Henry shut his eyes, preparing for the worst. Ohhh, they didn’t do that unless something was really messed up. God, this was a mistake. He shouldn’t have come back. They were perfectly happy talking to each other. They didn’t need Henry–

“Why?” asked Ellie.

“You’re our best friend, dude!” Charles agreed.

“ive been gone for months,” Henry pointed out. “after you know getting caught trying to break into a bank vault and then escaping prison.”

“And? You’re still our best friend. Even if they caught some dumb thief, you’re still our best friend.”

“Yeah! We missed you, man! :(”

“Also you can’t escape that easily. You got caught, you gotta pay the fine.”

“Yeah! The fine! You know, the fine.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Five dollars. That’s the reward for catching a dumb thief.”

Henry blinked at the screen. “wut”

“Dude, you can’t get out of this. We made, like, a cult-like promise way back in middle school. You realize middle school promsies are like blood pacts, right?”

“Henry, I know it’s probably not a good idea to come here and all, but we still really like you! <3”

“Yeah, man! You gotta deliver that bill in person. Where are you?”

Henry squinted, rubbing his wrist over his eyes. “That’s probably not a good idea. Me telling you where I live.”

“Oh, right. Because you’re a dumb thief.”

“I don’t think he’s dumb. >:(”

Henry couldn’t help a laugh at that.

Charles went on, “That was a pretty bad thing, tho. :/ Trying to steal stuff and then break out of prison.”

Henry winced. Somehow, that stupid little emoji hurt worse than Ellie’s insults. He knew they were both genuine, and neither wanted to hurt him, but Charles was just… Charles.

“You kinda did that a lot as a kid, tho?? But you didn’t get in trouble??”

“Yeah, what happened?” Ellie agreed. “You getting caught? What was that about?”

“I don’t know. Bad luck.”

“You’re the luckiest person I know.”

“Luckiest person I know, too. /nods”

Henry sighed. “I don’t know what happened, okay? I know I wasn’t supposed to be there, anyway. That was really stupid of me. And now everything’s just not going my way, you know? I’m not in New Mexico, I just moved on. So, I don’t think we’re in the same time zone, Charles.”

“Are you in my time zone?”

“Depends. Where?”

“Wisconsin.”

“Nope.”

“Are you in New York?”

“No. That’s a dumb place for me to go.”

There was a slight pause.

Charles asked, “What about your family?? They still like you right? :(”

“Oh, no, yeah,” said Henry. “No, they do. I love them, too. But you know how it is. Hey, so, what game were you guys playing?”

“Well, we WERE playing CoD. But then the infamouse twelve-year-old wave appeared.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Did you beat them into the dirt?”

“Of course!”

“Yeah, Ellie went OFF on them! It was terrifying! :D”

He couldn’t help a laugh. “That sounds like you! I feel sorry for the kids.”

“Don’t be. They were annoying as fuck.”

“Lol”

Henry, Ellie, and Charles spent hours on the chat. They fluctuated between games to catching up to talking about their day. Any news, save for being on the move? Will you be somewhere near me next month? How was prison food? (ELLIE, NO D:) Did you get to cook at your new home? What kind of missions have Charles and Ellie been going on, Henry had asked. Henry had seen those messages on the above chats, but just in case they talked over the phone or something. But, no, most of the info was recorded lovingly in the chat history.

Charles eventually had to say goodnight, though he did ask if they would be on tomorrow. Ellie would, but Henry was uncertain. After all, he didn’t even know the mission he was going to be apart of tomorrow, if he was going to be part of one at all.

With that, Ellie and Henry both logged off as well. Henry closed his computer and set his headphones down. He shut his eyes and tipped his head back. _God_. They still loved him. He was still their friend. Even though he was a criminal on the run, they accepted him.

Henry decided to make his way to bed. It was already late; he had to be presentable tomorrow. Er… in the morning, Henry noticed upon glancing at his watch.

* * * * *

Uuuuuuugh, six hours of sleep was not enough.

A cold shower helped wake him up. It was the opposite of fun, but he was awake, clean, and his hair washed. He was once again in a spiffy suit and wore his navy-blue top hat with the golden H on the base.

“Whoa, did ya stay up all night?” Howie asked as they met up.

Henry grimaced. “That obvious?”

“No, Ah was just assumin’. But ya did?”

Henry breathed a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good. Yeah, I did. Last night I logged onto the internet again. I didn’t get to tell them where I was, you know, but… I got to talk to Charles and Ellie for the first time since that stupid bank mission.”

Howie grinned. “That’s great, li’l buddy! How’d they take it?”

“Way better than I expected,” Henry confessed. “Charles was disappointed in what I did, Ellie was just disappointed I got caught. But I’m still their friend.”

Howie laughed. “Ya’ve got some good friends on yer side, Henry!”

“I do.”

They met Henry’s dads near the cafeteria, where they walked together. “Good morning!” Henry bit back a yawn.

“Good morning, Henry,” Dad Reginald greeted, his smile bent a little in concern. “Are you alright? Did you get enough sleep last night?”

“I’m fine,” Henry reassured him. “I just went to bed a little late. It’s not that I had trouble sleeping or anything, I just… it’s been a while. You know, been a while on a lot of things. Being on the airship, seeing you guys, having the lights turn off ‘on their own.’ Talking to my friends. It’s been a wild ride.”

Dad Reginald nodded in acknowledgement as they gathered around the table. “I understand that. We’re happy to see you alive and well, Henry. It is still a little bit of a shock, admittedly, what happened. Because of that stress and how new you are back here, it isn’t a good idea to send you on some of the more dangerous missions.”

Henry forced down a grimace.

“Once you get back on your feet properly and things do calm down, that will change.” _When “things” calm down or when Dad Reginald calms down?_ “But for now, there _are_ a few things that could use your attention. Howie, you’re planning on another meeting, yes?”

Howie nodded. “Yep. We’re meetin’ with the executive of a food company tomorrow. It’s jus’ me and Harold. Ah mean, Henry could come with us. He’s a nice guy ta have ’round.”

Dad Reginald stated, “Good. I hope a last minute addition won’t hurt. Henry?”

Howie waved his hand. “Oh a’ course, not.”

Henry slowly nodded. “Okay. I don’t normally go on those type of missions, though.”

Reginald said, “It will be good practice, I’m sure. Planning and going through with heists, even solo ones, as well as having the basic skills of lockpicking and pickpocketing are good. But being well-rounded with negotiations, proper meetings, and the like are also very good skills to have. It’s best to know your allies as soon as possible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You would think they'd forget about the $5 finder's fee for Henry, but Ellie wouldn't let a bounty go unfulfilled! Even if it technically wasn't her bounty in the first place!
> 
>  **Fun fact #1** : Ellie's dialogue was (mostly) unedited. The mistakes you see in her chat is my first go at writing. None of the mistakes are intentional. Charles' and Henry's are, but not hers.  
>  **Fun fact #2** : Discord wasn't invented for another few years after 2013, but CoD was a rampantly popular game in 2013. RIP hours of researching trends in 2000 and 2013.  
>  **Fun fact #3** : In the games, Howie is seen next to Right Hand Man during "Master Bounty Hunter" as well as the Witch (herbalist) and Mr. Goldbloom (former CEO) but doesn't have a gun in his hand. He's also described as not living up to his name. He's seen for a good three seconds before getting killed in "suppressive fire". Therefore, I put him in a less action-based role. ~~_I honestly don't like MBH._~~


	32. Not Escaping the Prison

How long a “break” did Dad Reginald think Henry needed?

Don’t get him wrong, Henry loved spending time with Howie. But man, what he’d do to get on a nice high-stakes, high-reward heist! He should at least be grateful he could keep his diamond and thus set it in the corner, washing and polishing it so that it always shined in the light and was the absolute focus of attention. He had time to do this and other things as these missions he went on with Howie–mostly involving meeting with certain people for deals or to pop in and see how everything was going–didn’t last very long, at least compared to how long it took to sneak into a museum and clean out a room of some extra stuff. That and he sometimes got in trouble for accidentally picking up things that weren’t his. It wasn’t his fault! He didn’t _want_ to steal from them!

Anyway, he had time at home. So, after dinner, he would visit the Brig. On occasion he’d bring Dave his dinner, allowing him an extra few minutes to spend with the man. He also brought lunch every day that he could, so that was some time to spend with him. Henry could tell the man was way more than uncomfortable staying in the same small cell all day every day against his will. So, one evening, Henry checked up on the hallways and night watches, and slipped into the Brig.

“Hey, we’re all clear,” Henry said.

Dave responded, shuffling his feet, “Is… this a good idea?”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t have a roommate and I know every nook and cranny and ventilation shaft in this ship. If you don’t want to go, that’s fine, I get it. But I’ll make sure nothing happens.”

“…thanks, Henry. Okay. I’ll do it.”

Henry unlocked the door to Dave’s cell and opened it with a flourish. Dave crept out, shrinking into himself a little upon looking around. Henry patted his shoulder, causing the man to jump, and left the Brig. It took no time at all to get to Henry’s room. Once they were inside, the door shut and light on, Dave took a deep breath. “That… was stressful.”

Henry chuckled. “Yeah, sneaking out of prison can be stressful.” His smile dissipated. “Sorry I can’t sneak you off the airship entirely.”

“I understand why you can’t,” said Dave. “I mean, I got fired because I didn’t check that box that allowed you to escape and I wasn’t even _trying_ to help you.”

Henry sat down on his bed, setting his head against the wall. “I got some things for you in the bathroom if you want to take a shower. Another security guard uniform, so no one gets suspicious if you start wearing my nightclothes or something. Also, I’m not done yet, but I’m thinking of a few ways to get you into the gym and stretch your legs a little.”

Dave set a hand on the back of his neck. “Oh. Thanks, Henry. You… you’ve been really nice. Thanks.” After an awkward shuffle of feet, he made his way to the bathroom, its light already on.

Henry went to his computer and started looking through the files he kept hidden deep in a rabbit hole of files. Well, he had two “secret” folders. One was labeled “[secret plans](https://youtu.be/dQw4w9WgXcQ)” which led to several documents and folders all leading through a maze that ended with one link that went through a few hoops until finally landing in a rick roll. It had taken a few hours, but all thirty-five web, word, and video documents inevitably landed on a trick. The other folder was classily labeled “porn” which had his secret projects, again under crude names. His dads weren’t known to sleuth through his stuff, but he’d had that folder since he was a teenager and never had it searched. Still, it was fun.

The shower started running.

Henry flicked through a few files, opening the word documents and a couple of PDFs and image files. He’d so far been working on a plan to get to the gym, but there was always _something_ in the way. He could easily get Dave to the on-board gym. With the right disguise, he could trick anyone on the cameras. In fact, he had most of this planned out. That was, except for what happened if anyone squinted at Dave for more than a couple of seconds. The disguise could fool near anyone, especially with the influx of recruits and transfers. But if questions were asked, he or Dave might trip. If it was either of his dads, it was game over. But the times he chose, his dads should either be busy with something or asleep. However, if anyone decided to “check” on Dave in the middle of the night, the “dummy” they would plant–who could argue with a few pillows and a blanket honestly–could quickly raise an alarm.

Henry groaned and searched through his documents _again_. But he’d combed through it all, through every log of everything he’d done himself and from what he’d nicked off the security computer and files in Records.

Maybe… this wasn’t a good idea.

The door opened. Henry jumped and looked up at the noise, causing Dave to bristle as well. Henry let out a breath and relaxed. “Whoof. Sorry, I didn’t expect you. How are you feeling?”

Dave sat down on what used to be Howie’s bed. “Better, actually. Yeah, thanks.” His hair was still a little wet, but his new clothes were practically the same as the old ones. That and he smelled nicer. It wasn’t something noticeable through the door, but it was noticeable to anyone who got past that, namely Henry. Actually, _only_ Henry. “You’re risking a-a lot for me.”

“Yeah. My friend would probably tell me to do it or something. And it’s fun seeing if I can get past the Clan!” Henry chuckled to himself. “Anyway, I think I have a way to the gym some time. We already passed the window of opportunity, I think. If we meet up with anyone, a disguise would help, but I don’t want to meet up with anyone, y’know?”

“Oh, yes. Definitely. Me, neither.”

Henry chuckled and leaned back in his chair, so the front legs were off the ground. “Anyway, we got until about one A.M. or so until I should probably hit the hay. It’s nine thirty. So, is there anything you want to do? As long as it doesn’t involve leaving, I can do it! Actually…” He hummed and grinned. “There aren’t any security cameras on the roof.” He shook his head. “Anyway. So.”

Dave hunched his shoulders. “Uh… how about the news? What’s happening?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Henry fell forward with a quiet huff, so all four legs of his chair were on the ground and he turned to his computer. “Local news, national, something about a specific person?”

“Oh, yeah! I lost contact with Rupert after-after what happened. Uh… is there any way to see if he’s okay?”

“Yeah, sure! Definitely!”

Henry didn’t know how the news was so captivating–he usually kept it as background noise, though he had to admit he found out about the Tunisian Diamond over the news–but Dave was captivated. Henry didn’t ask why, just knew that Dave was happy looking over different news sites for stuff local to Red Mesa and on a global scale. That’s what mattered, right?

So, with a “knock yourself out,” Henry lay down on his blanket and took out his phone. Eventually, he grew bored and rolled over onto his stomach. They still had _plenty_ of time before Henry needed to guide Dave back.

Eventually, Dave asked, “Are you asleep?”

“Huh?” Henry looked over his shoulder.

“Oh! Okay. I just wanted to make sure.”

Henry pushed himself up so he was sitting. “Nice. Yeah. Hey, if I _do_ fall asleep, don’t be afraid to wake me, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Dave paused. “So… is there anything you like to do when you’re, uh, not working?”

Henry chuckled. “A few things. It’s easy to get bored around here if you’re not working, or you’re not twelve with a scooter. Weeeeeell, what kind of movies you like?”

Dave liked the action, sci-fi type of movies, which was okay. Henry wasn’t a big fan of aliens, but hey! Henry wasn’t the one locked up in a jail cell. By the end of the night, Dave was somehow both jittery and tired. Henry could emphasize. So, it was time to go to bed. He didn’t envy waking up in the morning with, like, six and a half hours of sleep, but it was like that, sometimes.

He was a little tired when he woke up, but it was nothing a good wash in the sink and cup of coffee couldn’t fix.

“Henry, you say that you have a friend or so in the force?” asked Dave.

Henry, leaning on the door so that he could look inside, replied, “No, but I have one friend who will sometimes work _with_ the police. I have another friend who’s a government pilot. Buuuuut before you get any ideas, they do not know I’m a Toppat and they don’t approve of theft. My pilot friend mostly.”

“Oh. Heh, I, uh, wasn’t going to ask that. I just wanted to know why they’re your friends. They’re so different from you.”

Henry nodded. “Yeah, we are pretty different. But friendship’s funny like that, you know? We met when we were in middle school. Kids don’t really care what their friends’ parents are, a lot of the time. They just care who their friends are. And it helped that my friends’ parents were good people. They didn’t know I was from the Toppat Clan. What about you? Do you have any friends who turned out to be… different from you?”

“Not really,” Dave confessed. “I like making friends, but most of them are in the force. I’ve pretty much fallen out of touch with my high school friends. We change as we grow up. You’re one of the only people I’ve met who can claim they’re still friends with the people they met in middle school.”

“True. I’m a different person as an adult then as a kid. Man, times were so much simpler back then. Nothing about having to worry about getting locked up, worrying about parents getting locked up, about what your friends’ families think. It was a danger, but you never really think about those things. Just… ‘what homework did the teacher assign?’ and ‘what adventures are we going on today?’ But, I’ll chance a guess most of those things weren’t on your mind even after reaching adulthood.”

“That… would be correct,” Dave replied. “I just lived in a suburb. Normal life, you know.”

“Heh. What made you want to become a policeman?”

“I wanted to do some good, follow in my uncle’s footsteps,” Dave replied with a short shrug. “I’d only joined the force six months ago. I, uh… got laid off due to negligence.”

“Oh. Um, sorry about that. Nothing personal, you know.”

“Yeah.”

…

Henry cleared his throat. “Right. Uh… that was a bit of bad luck.”

“Mhm.”

“So, I gotta leave soon,” Henry said. “But I know that it’s pretty bad just staying in there. I can drop by in a few hours? Tomorrow morning I get to deliver breakfast so I’ll bring something extra with me.”

“Thanks, Henry. You’ve been… really nice.” Dave smiled a little, though it was rather strained.

Henry chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, thanks. Heh. Good night!”

“Good night.”

Jeez Henry wished he could release Dave from his prison. It just wasn’t fair to the man to be locked up in that stupid cell. Afanasiy deserved it, Dave did not. Henry half-wished he could talk about it to Ellie and Charles, but that would be crossing a line. He couldn’t talk about Toppat business with them, especially something so obvious as “Hey, my crime dad locked up this guy in our crime base, what should I do?” This is considering the fact he hadn’t told them his dads weren’t in the tech industry.

Uuuuuugh, why did life have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t Ellie and Charles just… why couldn’t he tell him and speak freely?

So, Dave looked nice with a top hat. Neat!

Dave fidgeted as they walked, his head dipped to hide beneath the plain black hat, brim curled up a little. Despite no one actually being in the halls this late, he still walked as if expecting someone to jump out at him. Since this was the first time they weren’t going to Henry’s room–which was five days in a row now–it was understandable. Even with the unassuming street clothes and black top hat, he looked stressed.

Henry opened the door with the in-ship gym. There was work out equipment, but Henry was most familiar with the empty space with mats on the floor. That’s where Dad Right taught him self-defense.

“So,” Henry said as they walked into the empty, semi-dark place. He flicked on a switch, turning on the lights in the area near them, but not the entire place. “Now that we’re here, what do you want to do?”

Dave looked around, a thoughtful look befalling him. “Well… you said you know some self-defense. I learned in the academy.”

Henry’s eyes brightened. “Oooh! A duel! I can do that.”

“I mean, I didn’t really _say_ that!” Dave put in quickly. “But! You-you could say that?”

Henry hummed. “So, maybe a duel. Or do you want to swap training techniques?”

“That would be nice, too!”

Henry ran over the mat, Dave at his side. He took off his shoes and faced off against the security guard. Former security guard? “Okay. You want to go first?”

Academy training was different than what Dad Right taught Henry. Dave tended to stay more defensive while Henry put on an aggressive offense. He didn’t do anything that might cause damage, but he definitely wasn’t sitting back waiting for anything.

Henry ended up baiting Dave into a lunge, where he redirected the man’s momentum and used his own weight to put him down. He winced at the simple, quick action. “Are you okay?”

Dave puffed, “Yeah.” He got back to his feet and shook his head, quickly retrieving his lost hat as he did so. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s try that again.”

Dave was able to catch Henry off balance a few times, especially near the end of the night as Henry’s aggressive style used more energy. Dave knocked his feet out from under him and pinned Henry, holding the thief’s hands behind his back and stepping on the small of his back.

Henry stopped struggling and stuck out his tongue. “Okay, fine, officer. You win.”

Dave chuckled and let him go. “That was fun!” he panted.

Henry pulled himself up and stretched. “Yeah. Whoo. That took a lot out of me. It’s getting late. Want to wash off and change?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't talk like that, Dave, this is a great idea.


	33. Chilly!

“Henry,” Dad Reginald stated as they stood in the Bridge. A few weeks had passed since Henry had met him there with the diamond and an epic story. “I need you to do one last mission, more of a diplomacy if you will. We have not contacted some of our partners in Alaska in person for some time, but we need to do so. We decided that you would do well there. It isn’t a very delicate mission. We just need you to talk to them, catch up, see how they are doing, make sure they still think our partnership is a priority, the works.”

Henry nodded. “Okay. Am I with someone or is this a solo?”

“Technically, it is a solo mission,” Dad Reginald admitted. “However, you will be approaching the site with some Toppats from the sea division. You will hire a driver to get to your destination, and then come back. Normally, this would be a mission we could complete ourselves, but we normally stay near the equator, while the sea division tends to stay near the poles. Besides, this will be a good opportunity to meet people from our fellow divisions.”

“Okay. So, where’s the brief and when do I leave?”

“Over here and tomorrow.” Dad Reginald took a file he had been holding in his jacket and held it out to Henry, who barely stifled a laugh.

“Thank you, Dad. I’ll see you guys later! Soon!”

So, how soon was “soon?” Henry had gone directly from the airship to a ship in the middle of the ocean. The air was already chilly, but unfortunately, he couldn’t stay inside long before he was summoned to a boat. The man driving the small boat was named Barry Bruh; a shorter man with a tall, dusty jungle green top hat. They didn’t actually talk very much on the ride with Barry being the quiet type and Henry unable to control his growing anxiety at the weird silence between them. But this didn’t last long before they were on a port and some driver named “Mr. Červeny-Ryba” was taking him further inland. It was an odd name, sure, but Alaska was pretty close to Canada and Russia, so names might reflect that?

Well, he didn’t think on it much longer before he was in a small, cozy building, meeting with a man and woman who greeted him, offered a cup of tea, and told him that they were still partners and the in-person meeting was unnecessary but thank you for dropping by!

* * * * *

Henry sat at the bar, reveling in the warmth that chased away the Alaskan chill. He downed the rest of his tea, focusing on his empty mug but quite aware of everything that was being said.

“So, how about it?” asked a lady nearby.

“Totally! I’ll get a babysitter…” replied a man. Henry stopped paying attention to them.

“Dad is literally always late,” said a teenage boy.

“He probably lost his keys. Again,” agreed his sister.

Then, as Henry was starting to lose himself to his thoughts, a strange voice piqued his interest.

 _“You see that hat, моя любовь_ _?”_ asked a woman, her voice quiet and steeped in Russian rather than English.

 _“Да_ _. The others were very quick to leave. Was this one stranded?”_ another woman came in answer.

 _“Сомневаюсь_ _. He waits for someone else. A spy? Or someone unaffiliated he has paid?”_

 _“Второй_ _. Hats are too proud and silly to relinquish their garb like that.”_

 _“And yet you aren’t? You wear that silly scarf everywhere, моя любовь_ _.”_

 _“It was my grandmother’s. He sees us, успокойся_ _!”_ the second woman hissed.

Henry waved down the bartender for another glass. The man showed no curiosity to Henry’s unwillingness to purchase alcohol. Perhaps it was because Henry claimed to be a designated driver. Those two women surely heard that.

As the women were no longer speaking, Henry looked over his phone. He listened as closely as he could, but the women had changed their conversation to the meal they were going to order.

_Bzzz!_

Henry clicked the power button on his phone and then put it away. He hopped off his seat, tipped his hat to the two women, and left.

A dainty blue car huddled just outside, steam whisking out of the tailpipe. A man sat at the driver’s side, watching Henry as he left. The desert-raised man couldn’t help but flinch at the wave of cold that crashed into him as he left the warm building. The driver rolled down the passenger window. “Mr. Stickmin?”

“That’s me. You?”

“Mr. Červeny-Ryba,” the driver claimed.

“Thank you, sir.” Henry climbed into the backseat. “Thank you for coming all the way out here.”

Mr. Červeny-Ryba rolled up the window and drove. “It’s no problem. I like the scenery out here. A refreshing vacation from the dull grays and browns of my home town. Look at that.” He gestured to the nature beside him. A river rolled through the thin forest beside him. The embankment was incredibly steep, but the sprouting bush and humble wildlife still managed to keep their roots and footing.

“It’s beautiful,” Henry agreed. “I’m from the desert, so I’m not normally around so much snow. God, it’s _everywhere!_ How do you stand it?”

“I was born here,” his driver claimed. “The ice and cold is my home.”

The two kept up their meaningless dialogue for a while longer, Mr. Červeny-Ryba watching the road before them and Henry watching the river at their side. The current was swift, swollen by some melted snow in the “warmth” of summer. Henry looked at his driver and then the road. This… wasn’t the town Henry had passed on the way here. They were supposed to be doubling back to the docks, where Henry would take a boat back to a Toppat meeting place.

“So where is this place?” Henry asked, his tone as casual as ever. “I’ve never seen this part of Alaska before.”

“Oh, it is quite nice,” said Mr. Červeny-Ryba. He pressed something on his dashboard. “I am driving in the back.”

Henry attempted to open his door, but all he received was a short _click_ in response. Henry wasn’t a child; child proof locks shouldn’t work on him!

Mr. Červeny-Ryba said, “Don’t worry. I hear it’s warm in prison. They might even le–gack!” The man’s speech was interrupted as Henry, now without his seatbelt, hooked his arm around the man’s throat. Henry reached out and snatched the wheel. The car jerked to the side and then they were no longer on the road. The car bumped as they hit a rock and slid across the snow and hidden ice as the two wrestled for control over the car and control over Mr. Červeny-Ryba’s ability to breathe.

Finally, Henry’s fingers were pried off the man’s throat and he punched Henry’s fingers, forcing the man to let go with a yelp. Unfortunately, as Mr. Červeny-Ryba grabbed the wheel, they both found the effort to be fruitless. The car, pointing back in the direction from which they came, rushed off the steep embankment into the river below.

Jesus Christ ice water was cold.

Henry forced his window open with his elbow and crawled out, kicking Mr. Červeny-Ryba in the head through the driver’s window as he went. Now outside of the car but no longer holding onto anything, the freezing current took him and tore him down below the frosty surface.

Henry pulled his head above the water just in time to see a small team pulling Mr. Červeny-Ryba out of his car and onto “dry” land before Henry was pulled under again. The wry thought of Henry’s capture being more important to them than his death entered his mind. Would they chase him to the ocean if need be, or would they let the cold and water take him first?

A root hit Henry as he struggled past it, as did a few branches and now more rocks as the water thinned into rapids. Ah, well, Henry lived a fulfilling life, he supposed. Dying at twenty-four was probably better than dying at eighteen, when Mrs. Bloodworth thought he would.

Henry’s head hit a stone and… his struggles ceased.

Henry’s hazy senses registered, well, warmth. Warmth and silence and the feeling of something soft under his previously numb extremities came to his foggy attention. He groaned and pulled himself up so he was sitting, a hand to his head and his eyes half-open. “What the…?”

“Calm,” said a woman. “You are still recovering. My husband and I found you while out fishing. You suffered a blow to the head, we believe, and definitely hypothermia.”

Henry blinked and took a deep breath. The world started to clear before him. “Yeah. Yeah, I… fell. I fell into the river and just got swept away, I guess. I don’t really remember much.”

“That’s to be expected. You’ll remember soon enough, I’m sure,” the woman hummed. “The doctors like to call it ‘temporary amnesia’ or something. How are you feeling now?”

“Heh. Better than I was a few minutes ago.” Henry chuckled and then hesitated. “Wait… how long have I been out?”

“Oh, a couple of hours, at worst,” the woman responded. “That is when we found you. Two hours ago. Since you would have frozen to death not too much earlier, that is what we’ve estimated. Do you remember how you fell in? Why?”

Henry shook his head. “No, no. Not… not really. Must have been something about a… car? Maybe? Either way, I need to be getting a port just down the coast. Or something. Where are we?”

“No, no. You should stay a little while longer,” the woman denied. “You’ll hurt yourself if you move too much.”

Henry took a deep breath. “That… that sounds nice.” He looked down at his clothes, which were brighter and thicker than he remembered them to be. “Wait, uh… where are my clothes?”

“I washed them, don’t worry,” she said. “My husband made some stew for lunch. What do you think?”

“That… would be great,” Henry admitted. “Thank you very much.”

She grinned. “Oh, that’s always good to hear! I’ll be back. I put your clothes over there. Funny hat you have there.” With that, she was gone.

Henry looked over to the other side of the room. His suit, folded neatly with his top hat on top, sat snuggly on a dresser. Henry currently lay in a rather plain bed. Few decorations lined the walls. Perhaps he was in a guest bedroom. How nice of them.

Henry got to his feet and changed back into his nice clothes. His shoes were clean and dry, too. Well, at the very least that water took care of any mud that had been on the bottom of them. What a nice woman. He couldn’t help the paranoia that stirred in him. Who would be so kind, so selfless, anyway? She _could_ just be some nice old lady living out in the sticks and snow with her husband in their golden years. They found him, a haggard and dying mess, and decided to help him. Why would there need to be some ulterior, malicious motive?

Oh, right, because he survived for as long as he did assuming the worst until the best showed itself.

Henry made his way out of the bedroom–after making the bed, of course, because he was raised better than to be ungrateful–and found his way to the dining room-kitchen hybrid. A few hunting trophies as well as pictures of a family generations strong were the great focus of the warm-colored place. A couple of rather thick cookbooks sat on the counter next to a few basic appliances.

The man whom he assumed to be the husband greeted him, “Finally awake, I see? I’m glad to hear you’re okay. A nice young man like yourself has a few more years to go before God calls him back, huh?”

Henry chuckled. “Well, thank you, Mr…?”

“Caldwell. Mr. Caldwell. Who are you?”

“I’m Harry. Thank you again for your help. Is there anything I could do to repay you?”

“Oh, no, no. It’s fine. It’s just common morals to help a man in need. But if you really want to, you can stay with us for lunch. It’s been some time since we’ve had company.”

Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell were… nice people. An elderly couple who lived in the same house as their parents and then their parents before them. Their own children had scattered to the four winds in search of opportunity and their own families, be them on the sea as fishers or land as drivers or even a bartender.

“Oh, you would have loved our eldest,” Mrs. Caldwell hummed. “He’s in the navy. A bright young man.”

Henry chuckled. “Probably. My best friend is in the military. It sometimes gets difficult to get a hold of him.”

“Oh, very,” the old woman agreed.

Henry started to say something but stopped himself. His smile died and he looked to the window.

 _“…target… house… two…”_ Henry barely heard the words.

He got up and walked to the door, his left hand twitching as the automatic need to have a gun in his hand forced its way into his head.

“What’s wrong?” This was Mrs. Caldwell.

Henry narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t hear the voice any longer. “I… I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell.” Henry straightened himself and turned around. “It might just be the wind, but I could have sworn I heard something out there. You know, I met these ladies in a bar down the way speaking Russian. Do you hear much of that around here?” Henry sat back down at the table, not exactly raising his voice but making it well heard.

The old man shook his head. “No, we don’t normally get visitors around these parts. Sometimes we’ll meet a lad who can speak French, but nothing else like that.”

Just then, a knock came to the door.

Mrs. Caldwell got up and answered it without a word uttered. “Oh, hello! Is… is something wrong?”

Mr. Caldwell, confused, got to his feet as well to join his wife.

Henry, quiet as could be, slipped from his place and to the window where he’d heard the voices first.

“Yes, Ma’am,” replied the man, his voice bearing a heavy Russian accent. “I come for one named Henry Stickmin. We have been tracking him and think he may have been here.”

“Oh, no,” said Mrs. Caldwell. “We’ve never met a Henry Stickmin before. We did rescue this nice lad a few hours ago. He called himself Harry. Harry?”

Henry didn’t answer.

It’s not that he didn’t _want_ to answer, but a pair of arms had reached through the window and grabbed him by the neck, pressing a fairly sweet-smelling rag over his nose and mouth. He grabbed onto the wrist that held him and flipped himself over, taking the man’s arm with him. He was able to breathe again–barely, but still able–but that sweet smell was still with him. He didn’t recognize it through experience, but knowing the Wall, he could make a good guess of what it was.

Someone took him from behind and held him in place until the old sedative completed its work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I planned on the old couple to take Henry to the Wall, but thought the better of it. Why not have a happy elderly couple? Also, chloroform takes longer than three seconds to work and it must be used quickly or it'll lose effectiveness in the air. Most of the time that it's used in media, people who are "knocked out" by chloroform are actually knocked out through suffocation as someone presses a hand over their nose and mouth.


	34. Fleeing the Complex

**_Henry, you need to listen to us. You’ve been guided on a linear path. But now, no one is here to hold you down. Wake up, Henry. Wake up and make_ your _choice. Chase them down like the dogs they are, flee with a friend or let people be damned, go out guns blazing. We’re no longer here to hold your hand._ You _will live, Henry Mary Stickmin. We_ promise _. But first, you must make a decision. Wake up and be ready to flee the complex._**

The first thing he heard was that voice… those voices…? The masculine one was back, but this time with the feminine one. The comforting parent and sarcastic friend… Angel and Not-Angel… But he didn’t catch those voices with his ears, never did. What did they mean by…?

Henry heard the thumping of boots upon the ground and clacking of metal on metal. Someone pulled him along, Henry’s feet dragging over the floor. He’d just been able to pull his head up when he was thrown roughly into a chair. Both hands were taken and yanked back behind the seat of the chair and his wrists clasped in metal. Henry tried to look around but found darkness to be his only companion here.

Then, a bright light blazed above him, and Henry winced, blinking his bleary eyes a few times to get used to the glow.

“Hello Henry.”

Henry looked up as a figure stepped into the light, his shadow cast directly down onto the plain table between them. Henry instantly recognized the thick, dark gray uniform with the red and yellow triangle symbol on the chest. A wiry but well-trimmed beard and mustache, gray from years and years of life and leadership, was bright beneath the intense glare of the buzzing light above. “Welcome, to The Wall.”

_Ah shit._

“Some of the most cunning and notorious criminals are kept here. And now we have the infamous Henry Stickmin. _Again._ ” The man grinned down at Henry, hands behind his back and narrowed, icy blue eyes focused on Henry’s. “You will regret not taking our offer. You are going to be here for a _long time._ Grigori.” The man looked up. “Take him.”

Henry looked back as a new man walked into the concentrated light, taking Henry by the back of his ruffled jacket and pulling him up. Henry didn’t bother to attempt a struggle; he knew when he was beaten. Well, that and the opportunity to escape was not yet apparent. It would be soon; Henry knew this as he allowed himself to be “guided” through a lit hallway and into a small room. The cuffs were released from his wrists, but Henry had not a moment of freedom before his hands were pressed together before him and cuffed with metal gloves to keep his fingers in place. Grigori let him go with Henry’s back pressed against the concrete wall at the other end of the small space. He pointed to the space Henry currently occupied. “You wait here until cell found.” With that, the man took his place at the doorway, blocking the only entrance or exit from the place completely.

Henry looked around the room. A single poster with a large “DO NOT” at the top and many bullet points in small script hung on the wall. A stool with a book was near one end. Beside Henry, sitting with her head down and fiery red hair touching her knees was–

“What?” Henry breathed. “Ellie?” Perhaps it was him just waking up, or how rude his wake-up call had been, but this woman had to be Ellie. He recognized that color of hair he’d last seen like a brand of fire in the wind as she drove off on her motorcycle. But there was nothing else about the woman he recognized; not how thin she was nor how scuffed her dull clothes currently were. He _definitely_ didn’t recognize that hopelessness in her downturned eyes. She didn’t look up or even react to the noise.

Henry looked around the small space. The only door or hatch or otherwise in the wall was the one Grigori currently blocked. There was no grate in the floor or even vents high up on the wall. But on the ceiling… yes! Jutting out of the wall was a disconnected pipe. Above that? A closed hatch. That instinct he had that guided him in his latest heists kicked in. The hatch in the ceiling, that was a way out. He could also just… wait. Or crash into the Grigori and make a run for it. But they wouldn’t put he and Ellie in the same room, and they could easily get separated running like that. Or they could get shot, which would also be bad.

Henry had a choice.

Well, playing dead would get him out and Ellie would probably be left unguarded, right? Henry flopped forward, going completely limp and ignoring the new pain in his head and abdomen where he hit the concrete and his metal gloves struck him. Ellie perked up, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at him. Grigori turned around and approached him. Grigori rolled Henry’s head over with his foot. Henry did not drop the act. The man pulled out a walkie talkie. “Is Grigori.”

A voice came out of the communication device, sounding quite a bit like a _“Yeah?”_

“Yeah. You know new one, Henry?”

The voice was warbled so Henry could barely understand him. _“What about him?”_

“He’s dead.”

The man on the other side of the line said _something, something, “…dead?”_

“Yes.”

The other man said something Henry couldn’t understand.

“Put him with others?”

_“Roger.”_

“Okay.” Grigori hoisted Henry up and walked, putting away his walkie talkie. It was a surprisingly short distance before Grigori reached their destination. Before Henry could look around his new surroundings, his gloves were removed, and he was shoved down a chute. He opened his eyes and scrambled to grab a hold of the cold stone, but his fingers slipped off the edge and he fell, screaming, toward the rocky shore below.

**Pretty convincing there.**

Henry woke up back in the cell and blinked. What… what just happened? He played dead and then got thrown out the trash chute? But… he died. No, wait, he didn’t die. He was _about_ to, but just as he passed a few stories, time seemed to pause for a moment as if the world didn’t want to interrupt the voice that spoke to him. Then he could feel the sarcastic, teasing tone in the Not-Angel’s voice as she said, _“ **Pretty convincing there.** ”_ Well, thanks? For the backhanded compliment? Henry knew that he sometimes did something wrong and a consequence happened and then the voice said something. But he could never remember the words, the circumstance. Everything was a blur, with the choice he made as a faint, forgotten dream with only the feeling left behind. He didn’t even remember the words of the Angel or Not-Angel; just their tone and his gut feeling. But this… he _remembered_ this.

_“_ **You _will live, Henry Mary Stickmin. We_ promise _._** _”_

Henry would have died, perhaps from the fall or from the rocks below or, worse, the ice or water if he survived said fall as a mass of broken bones and torn flesh. But the voice wouldn’t let him do that. Were there other times in his failed paths that he had died?

So, he had three other choices. He could ask Ellie to help him up, grab a hold of the pipe and open the hatch above them. He _could_ knock down Grigori and bust himself out. Though, he did that as a child, and he had a feeling they didn’t forget about that. Henry could wait for a transfer. He could go to a cell and find a way out from there while no one was looking.

Well, time to make a choice. Ask Ellie to boost him up (CA), bust himself out (PD), or wait for a transfer (IRO)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have a choice.
> 
> Huh. Looks like Henry's waking up. Or the Angel and Not-Angel are behaving differently. Wonder what that means for the future. Don't worry, they won't let Henry die or "lose." I mean, that's what the "entity" or "universe" or whatever in the games did.


	35. Threek in the Road

# CA

Ellie was his best friend, he could count on her.

Henry looked down at Ellie and cleared his throat. When she didn’t react, he made the noise again, slightly louder this time. Ellie looked up at him. Henry gestured to the pipe and hatch above his head. Ellie nodded. Then, just as Henry remembered the lady to be, she was able to lift him up enough for him to hop and hook his bound hands above the pipe, effectively leaving himself hanging. He swung his legs up, hooking a foot in on the hatch handle and throwing it open. Henry winced and looked down. Grigori had not turned around. Maybe it was age, maybe it was the hinges being well oiled for some reason, maybe it was Henry being awesome. He liked the believe the latter.

Henry flipped himself up again, grabbing on the hatch with his feet and straining to pull himself up into the shaft he now occupied, and freed his arms from the pipe. He turned around and smashed the metal contraption on his hands upon a rock a few times until the lock cracked open and he was free of the bonds.

Now he could bring Ellie up… or run off. But why would he do that?

…to see what would happen? Well, he didn’t know if they would bring him back upon screwing up or upon threat of dying. What if he couldn’t go back to help Ellie?

The ladder beside the hatch, Henry found, was attached but also not that long. He pulled it down, wrapped his legs around the bottom stair so his hands were free, and he hung upside down. Ellie accepted his help and within moments the room was empty, and the friends were in the hatch above. Henry pulled the ladder back and shut the door.

Ellie broke her own cuffs off, taking a few less swings than Henry took to do the same job. She always was the stronger one, somehow. “Thanks, Henry,” she sighed. He smirked and, with a sharp nod, led her down the hatch. Rather, he walked with her. Ellie was never one for following, even if she had no idea where they were going. Technically neither did Henry, he supposed.

They opened the next hatch at the end of the shaft to see themselves in the floor. A box was before them and another few to the side. Two men in the same gray uniform, one with a fuzzy cap and the other without but holding a staff, stood in the exit.

The one with the hat continued his speech, “…so I was like: ‘Look at how much I care. Heh. I don’t care.’ I ended up buffing up my guys and doing, like, seventy damage.”

“Heh. That’s funny.”

Henry’s immediate thought was to cause a distraction, but he wasn’t good at those, often getting so caught up in it that he would forget why he was causing the distraction in the first place. They could disguise, but what disguise would work? The tall overcoat next to them could make them look taller, but what would being taller do?

 _They_ had a choice.

He looked back at Ellie and nodded to the two guards. She looked up at them and grinned.

The two slipped out of the hatch and snuck around the front wall.

“Oh yeah, last night, I kept fi–”

The man with the staff’s words were cut off as Ellie grabbed him. Henry and Ellie, smothering the two men, waited until their struggles ceased before lowering them to the ground. Ellie flashed him a thumbs up and the two moved down the ridiculously long hallway, passing door after door labeled with a small number followed by a “D” with the half-floor above them containing cells whose numbers ended with “C.” At the very end, after passing cell “30D” and then a door with a number pad next to it, was a large room with a locked door and huge window. Through the screened window, they found an open elevator shaft with a wet floor sign, a puddle, and a door that led further into the building. No other way than forward, right?

“Hmm,” Ellie hummed, setting a hand on the door, and then looking back at Henry. “If we could get you up there, you could get in and open this door.”

Henry nodded and looked up. If Henry took a running start, Ellie could use his momentum and catapult him up! …or throw him into the window. Henry also had a funny little device that could alter the direction of gravity! Henry pulled out the little gray box with a thick antenna with blue rings. A dial with a square blue button above was on the right, while a switch lever filled the left side. There _was_ something he knew Ellie had. Just as Henry had once shown her, he could toss a rock around without needing to touch it, she claimed to be able to do the same thing, but with pretty much anything.

Henry had a choice.

Henry handed the device to Ellie. She took it and, after a quick glance over, she stepped back and held it up to Henry. Then, the rings and the bulbous end of the antenna flashed blue and suddenly, a squirming, shifting ball encased Henry. Then, he felt weightless. He was lifted up and then pulled to the side so he was over the roof of the smaller building-within-the-building. The blue bubble fizzled out. He felt the effects of gravity again… _sideways._

Henry yelled as he fell straight back toward the end of the room. A fall from this height–distance?–immediately caused damage as his head struck the stone.

**Newton’s 6 th Law. Use the gravity knob to reset gravity to the default setting.**

Ffffff… yeah, ow. Never mind, no gravity manipulation required. But! There _was_ something he knew Ellie had.

Henry glanced around and then pointed up. Ellie’s whispering probably wouldn’t disturb the guard whose shadow he could see cross the wall above him from the catwalk, but Henry wasn’t so confident. Ellie followed his gaze. The room had a ceiling far from the top that was level with the catwalk. She stepped back and held out her hand. Quite suddenly, the air around his neck grew tight and something pulled him up and then dropped him–right onto the ceiling of the big window room!

Henry, stifling his own gasping for air, threw a glance at the guard staring listlessly into the distance loosely pointed toward the doors. He gave her the thumbs up and then slipped through a hatch into the room, falling flat on his face as he did so. He grinned up at Ellie, hopped to his feet, and pressed a large button that definitely was to the door it was next to.

The button opened the door alright. It also set off an alarm… and opened every cell door Henry could see or hear. Immediately, prisoners poured out of their cells, spooking the single conscious guard on duty. A Toppat Henry didn’t recognize, still having a hat and sunglasses, called, “C’mon, gents!” as he rushed through the door past Henry and Ellie.

“Oh, yeah, let’s go!” called another near them and then everyone was running in different directions. Well, good on them, hope none of them run into a dead end or something. At least the lone guard was busy trying not to get thrown off the catwalk by a prisoner with a rather large ginger mustache.

Henry and Ellie ran through the now open door between the glass-wall room and the last cell. “Quick, in here!”

They darted in, only to find a man and then a four-armed humanoid rush past them, yelling, “Eya pandoushta!”

What?

Henry and Ellie dove behind two large boxes as a trio of guards made their way inside, no doubt following the alien and his friend, but stopped upon seeing the two. “Inmates! Hold it right there!” one of them demanded. Well, they were holding it, weren’t they?

Henry looked around, spotting a sniper rifle and a grenade in his immediate grasp from the torn open box. Ellie had a crossbow and probably a pistol next to her.

They had a choice.

Henry grabbed the rifle and, after a quick check, gave a nod to Ellie, who took the pistol, and jumped up. Ellie pointed the pistol at _him_ and–wait, that wasn’t a gun? That was a–

Henry jolted upon feeling two shards like snake fangs dig into his arm and a current of electricity bolt through him. The gun fired at random a few times before the electricity ceased and Henry got control of the weapon. He sent a look at Ellie, who tossed the Taser with a nonchalant shrug and grin. Henry dropped his weapon and kept moving. As fun as a sniper rifle was, he preferred the smaller ones in situations like these. Out in the open with an absolute need for precision, yeah he’d taken a sniper rifle. But man, he’d love to get his hands on a handgun of any sort, as long as it fired bullets and functioned properly enough to use.

Henry stopped behind another cluster of boxes. He could hear two guards talking.

“So. You say all inmate is out of cell?” asked the first.

“Yeah, some idiot must have opened all the doors,” the second huffed.

Ellie held out two hats she’d taken from the guards. “Hey, I just grabbed these. Maybe they’ll come in handy?”

The second guard went on, “Are we waiting on someone or…?”

“I thought you press.”

Henry glanced around at the elevator and gestured for the hats. He and Ellie tossed them across the hallway. “We will regroup with, uh–” Predictably, the guards perked up like anxious hounds and ran after the slight noise the hats made. “There is convict here!” yelled the first. “Get down on ground!”

Henry and Ellie hopped into the elevator and pressed the “Surface” button.

The doors opened to chaos, pure and simple.

Inmates and guards ran across the snowy ground, into or out of buildings, hopping between vehicles and places and rubble from vehicles or structures that had been scuffed or broken. “I don’t like this!” Henry heard the trouble cry in clarity from a man with a blue cap with three Cs within each other, but there was nothing else he could distinguish in the battle zone.

Henry and Ellie ran out in the biting snow.

“Henry!” he heard Ellie yell and he spun around. “Help!”

Grigori had grabbed her, forcing her hands behind her back, and struggling to pull her back to the building. “Back to your cell, inmate.”

Henry’s eyes darted around. Grigori saw him and narrowed his eyes. If he didn’t know Henry was the center of this hurricane, well… he did now. Henry could attack, striking Grigori with his knee in the right place. There was also a needle full of adrenaline he could use. Or a way to distract him…?

Henry had a choice.

Henry made a weird face at him.

Ellie and Grigori both gave him a flat look. “Oh, you think that will upset me?” Grigori scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “Very mature–”

Ellie gasped and stumbled forward, free as an inmate-controlled truck hit Grigori. Ellie rubbed her wrists and walked up to Henry, who was struggling to keep a slightly more professional expression than that of an excited eleven-year-old. “Thanks, I guess…? Now, let’s get out of here!”

Henry looked back. Well, part of the barbed wire fence to the left was torn and people flooded through it. Though, as Henry saw cliffs beyond, he wasn’t so sure that was a great idea. A truck full of inmates was closer, with more people piling on and someone beating senseless a guard that tried to get in after them. Then there was a motorcycle nearby.

Henry had a ch–

But the two had hardly seen the motorcycle lying abandoned before Ellie darted for it. Henry ran after her. Trucks were for people who stuck together, and who didn’t know how to ride like Ellie did.

Henry hopped onto the bike, but was almost immediately tackled, thrown to the snowy ground by the Warden. Dmitri held Henry down, glowering at him with a disarming amount of hatred. “Well if it isn’t _Henry._ ” Henry glanced behind him, watching as Ellie drove away. “There hasn’t been an incident here in fifty years. Then the day you show up this happens. You will learn to regret the–huh?” Dmitri looked up just in time to see a red, octangular sign slap him in the face. Ellie, wielding a stop sign and riding a motorcycle, zipped past them. Dmitri fell back into the snow, unmoving and with new dental problems, if Henry had to guess.

Ellie’s bike whipped around, and she stopped by Henry, who had gotten up and adjusted his hat, and held out her hand. Henry, grinning like a kid in a candy store, hopped onto the bike and held on for dear life as Ellie found the least safe ramp and aimed her baby blue motorcycle, branded with the wall’s insignia, at it. She let out a whoop as the convict allies gained some air before landing on the road and zipping away. Henry laughed and looked back. The gates weren’t even open! Well, why would they be? They still had an entire prison’s worth of inmates to pin down. A couple of firecrackers on a motorcycle was probably out of their minds at the moment.

* * *

# PD

Well, it worked once, it might work again.

Henry slipped into a hard stance with his back against the wall and then rammed his shoulder into Grigori, throwing the man hard to the cement floor. Henry turned and bolted, rushing down the hallway as fast as he could make himself go. He zipped by a rather bored Wall guard with a rifle. The man perked up and held up his weapon. “Oh, no, no~!”

Henry glanced back as the man raised his weapon. He whipped his head forward again. Okay, he could outrun the bullets or–oh! Half the doors on these cells were open!

Henry ducked into one of the doors, puffing as he heard bullets whizz past. He sucked in his breath as he heard the door shut firmly behind him with a quiet hiss of electronics. He blinked. Welp.

**Oh, you managed to find a cell on your own! What a responsible prisoner.**

Okay, yeah, yeah. That was du–he was being shot at again!

Try hitting a moving target, guard!

Henry leaped as high as he could, turned his bounce into a flip forward so the metal clasps that held his hands was pressed into the cement, and set his feet on his wrists, further scraping the metal against the cement. Hey, with his weight and speed, maybe he could break the cuffs!

Ahead of him, standing near the end of the hall and blocking his way to an elevator, were two men beside a few large boxes. The one on the right with a bushy mustache asked something in German, gesturing to the boxes. He spotted Henry and started yelling something Henry didn’t understand.

Okay, okay, well now he had two problems. If only there was a way to disappear or hide somewhere that _wouldn’t_ turn out to be a prisoner cell. He’d _prefer_ getting onto the elevator. Actually, that was his goal. There was no other place for him to go.

The time for choices ran out.

Henry landed back on his heels as he skidded to a stop and stood up. The guards stared at him.

**Yunno, I don’t think this guy knows what he’s saying.**

Okay, so, he couldn’t just keep going. …eh, Not-Angel? Voice? Person? Help?

Henry let out a quiet huff as he ran straight through something. The edges of the invisible box shattered, but the unseen fragments simply brushed passed him, doing no harm, before dissolving. He heard something ring above him and all the sudden he was slowing down. When Henry stopped, the metal clasps phased through his hands. He stood up, confused, watching as his body just… faded away?

He slipped past the confused guards and into the open elevator. By the time said weird power faded and he was completely physical and visible again, he’d pressed the ground floor button and leaned on the elevator edge, arms crossed and smirking.

It took a little while, but the elevator eventually stopped and opened. Henry shivered at the cold that swept inside. His shoes crunched the snow as he left the building and looked around.

The intercom’s scratchy voice, announcing someone clearing their throat, drew the attention of every living soul and Dmitri’s voice rang over the complex. “Attention. We have an escaped convict. He was last seen heading toward the surface. Do not make me do this myself.”

Henry only faintly recognized his surroundings, now; just as one would remember briefly visiting a place in a panic as a young child. People scattered in the yard. There was a building across the yard, but he had a bad feeling about it. There was a monster inside of there! At least, what his eleven-year-old mind imagined was a monster. There was a tank nearby that was occupied and ready to kill him, and a boxer farther north that could smack the daylights out of him. So, only one choice left: the man with the sword. There was another sword near him, ready to be wielded.

Henry had a choice.

Henry rushed the guard on the trail, swiping the sword with the blue hilt on the way. The green-hilt-sword man raised his weapon in a defensive stance. Henry rushed under him, knocking the sword wide and throwing him down.

Henry dropped the sword and ran to where a truck was parked, a large blue box with the wall’s white insignia stamped on the side. A trio of people stood against the gate. Three people blocked the gate, the leftmost one wielding a spear. “They’re up here somewheh. We cannot let him get through his gate. Ey, nice ’at,” commented the one in the middle to the rightmost one, whose hat was curled at the front rather than flat like a baseball cap. Henry narrowed his eyes. He needed to get through these three somehow. He could disguise himself in the snow. The van rumbled quietly, though no one was inside of it. And there was a sandwich nearby?

Henry had a choice.

Henry scooped up the snow around him. Shivering and cursing his stupidity, he shuffled his way around the truck. The middle Wall guard asked, “Hey, you wanna trade ’ats? Yours looks so nice!” He gasped upon seeing Henry move. “Frosty’s escaping!” In seconds the man’s gun was pointed at Henry and he fired off a few shots.

Henry fell back.

**Those guys need to CHILL.**

_Har, har._ Henry hopped into the truck. Within seconds, the vehicle was moving. He whipped it around so it pointed toward the gate and stomped on the gas as hard as he could. The vehicle jerked as it scrambled to obey Henry’s command. While the two outer guards managed to jump out of the way, the one in the center was unfortunate enough to be hit. The truck barreled through the gate and sped off.

Three armored green vehicles peeled after him, one roofless holding a man in the truck bed with a mounted machine gun and another two with a hatches in the top. The one with the mounted gun sped ahead of him, while one of the complete ones with a hatch drove to his side. Henry glanced to the side quickly enough to see the top half of a man emerge from the truck and pull out a shotgun. Henry winced as the man in the truck shot, cracking the driver side window, and then pumped the shotgun for a second blast.

Henry had a parachute with him, a gun on the seat, and that was it. He winced as the glass shattered. He could–

Henry slumped forward, his bleeding head hitting the steering wheel.

**Not even close, baby.**

Henry had a choice and he better _make it right now!_

Henry grabbed the parachute and threw open the door. The truck rushed off, eventually smashing into a tree as it drifted off the snowy, icy path. Henry, caught in the wind and rush from the car, shot up a few yards above the ground… and slowly drifted down.

He looked around at the trio of vehicles that stopped and released the weapon-wielding guards within. All their guns went off at once.

**You should’ve followed up with a tether from your wrist strapped grapple hook.**

**_ What do you mean you don’t have one of those… _ **

Henry, make a choice!

Henry glared at the truck and jerked his wheel to the side. His much larger vehicle slammed into the one holding the man with a shotgun. The armored vehicle zoomed off the edge of the cliff, its occupants’ screams fading rapidly into the swirling snow and long, _long_ drop off the cliff.

Unfortunately, the dented vehicle Henry now commanded slipped on the ice and snow. A wheel and some parts broke off and suddenly the unresponsive machine flipped and skidded. Henry held tight as churned snow and dirt was scraped up from his shattered passenger window and assaulted him. When the vehicle stopped moving, Henry opened his eyes, only to stare straight down the steep cliff and into the rocky shore far below them. He sucked in his breath and shied away from the drop. Yeah, no. There was _no way_ he was going to survive _that._

He heard a car door open. The armored vehicles had stopped and now a short black limousine parked on the road. Dmitri strutted out into the snow, his arms folded behind his back. “I have to say, Henry, I’m impressed. Really, I am.”

A star glowed, tucked under the seat.

“You are the first person to escape the Wall. But this is the end for you.” The man approached. “You’ve got two options here, Henry.” His foot settled on one of the popped tires of the truck.

Without thinking, Henry slammed his hands on the horn. The airbag expanded, pushing Henry out. Henry was thrown clear out the window… and to his doom.

**Airbags save lives.**

Henry took a deep breath, clutching the inside of the vehicle with everything he had.

“I have to say, Henry, I’m impressed. Really, I am.”

Henry glanced at the star glowing in the seat next to him. No… he had a bad feeling about that one.

“You are the first person to escape the Wall. But this is the end for you.” The man approached. “You’ve got two options here, Henry.” His foot settled on one of the popped tires of the truck. “Stay in there…”

The truck groaned as it was nudged closer over the edge. Henry winced and looked down, watching as tufts of snow and bits of earth defected and fell out of sight.

“Or you return with us back to the Complex. What is it going to be, Henry?”

Henry gulped and took a deep, steadying breath. Okay, okay! You can do this Hen–

The van shifted.

Fuck.

Henry threw his hands up.

“You made the right choice.”

…Henry was guided back to the Complex and thrown into a tight metal room with only a slit of glass in one side to throw in light and more cold. He sat against the wall, arms crossed over his knees.

**Maximum security? What an honor!**

Okay, fuck you, Voice! What was he _supposed_ to do? You said you wouldn’t let him die!

Henry shut his eyes, growling as he heard Dmitri’s condescending, sadistic coo outside. Okay, the star’s a bust. The airbag would kill him. Since the Not-Angel took him back from the complex, that wasn’t a choice. Then… what was? Plummet to his doom?

The van groaned as it was nudged closer to its tipping point.

Henry took a deep breath. He… he needed to _do something._ His hand touched a backpack. His eyes flicked to the window, and to the cliff.

“Hmm… Well now that’s just too bad,” Dmitri sighed and pushed the van.

Down, down, down to its doom did the battered van fall.

Henry clung to the cliff, his back pressed up against the freezing snow, hidden only by the backpack he now wore. His gasps puffed into clouds before his nose.

“Oh, no, no, Henry. That trick isn’t working on us again.”

Henry looked up, barely seeing the warden’s shoes on the edge and his dark, soulless eyes boring into his own. Dmitri looked back. “He’s under the cliff! One of you, take–”

Henry lashed out, grabbing Dmitri by the ankle, and yanking him down.

The man shouted as he was pulled off the cliff. Although Henry let go, Dmitri’s weight and Henry’s movement caused him to lose his grip on the cliff. Henry yanked a cord on his backpack. He watched as the man fell to his doom. Henry spat at him, gasping as the tumbling wind yanked him toward the sea.

The far-off booms of shots pierced his ears. Above him, holes tore into the parachute and a few strings snapped. Henry reached up to grab a few of the strings but ended up slipping through the straps of the backpack. Henry watched as the parachute flew away, unable to decide whether it had the weight to keep floating or to fall.

Sometimes, history was not fond of repeating itself.

* * *

# IRO

Henry was making a choice.

Henry was waiting.

Henry watched as Grigori stepped aside to allow a few guards visual access to the cell. Big and in a uniform probably made to make them look bigger. The one with a thin grayish beard had a hat that curled in the front, while his slightly younger, cleanshaven friend had a baseball cap. “Ellie Rose!” demanded the curled hat one.

Ellie looked up. For a moment, Henry was afraid she wasn’t going to move. Strangely, she _did_ get up, completely unassisted. Although she stood with her shoulders square and back straight, her eyes were dull and expression slack.

Henry watched her go, suddenly wishing he _hadn’t_ stayed still and quiet.

The two guards guided her down the hall, the baseball cap one giving her a small shove when she didn’t move fast enough, causing her to bump into the curled hat one and start a scene. Grigori shot a glare at them and they quieted.

Henry, back pressed against the wall, slid down until he was sitting. He kept one elbow on his knee, but the other foot slipped until his leg lay on the ground. He let out an involuntary shudder. Why was it always so damn _cold?_

“Alright, let’s go.”

Henry looked up upon hearing Grigori. Henry walked past him, poised and dignified. Captured he may be, but Henry was still a proud Toppat. Henry gagged as Grigori took him by the collar of his suit and yanked him back enough to stop him. Then, the brute just walked right past him. Henry muffled a growl and, despite still feeling the material of his collar on his throat, refused to clear his throat or make a sound. He didn’t need to look back to see the two guards who’d escorted Ellie, both behind him and both _obviously_ armed.

Grigori stopped long enough to press a red, square button. The door–equipped with a square glass window and a rectangular food slot–opened. Grigori unlocked the cuffs, grabbed him by the back of the jacket, and tossed him inside. Henry, any semblance of balance lost, fell face-first onto the hard, cold floor beside his thin-mattress bed. “Have a good time.”

Henry stood back up and readjusted his top hat. He hesitated. _Why_ did he still have his hat? In fact, why was he still in his suit? His… very thin… warm weather suit. God _dammit._

Henry stuck his hands in his pants pockets. Nothing. His outer and inner jacket pockets held no luck. His shoes were occupied only by his sock-covered feet. The strap around his ankle was there, but nothing was inside it. Damn, they really cleaned him out, huh? He took off his hat and grinned. Taped to the inside, so small one could easily mistake it for a flaw in its design or a dead flea, was a bit of leather. He plucked the device from his hat and held it out. The Shrink ’n Grow’s grip grew lax and the object in his hand turned into a purse of holding with a little green device similar in looks to a motherboard with four little hooks–one on each corner. Henry plucked one of his favorite gadgets off the side and dropped it into his pocket.

So, he had a few options. He’d brought his teleporter with him, a satellite-shaped red megaphone, a blue cookie with “eat me” scrawled upon its face, and a gray half-circle device the size of his fist. There was always the option of acting sick. But knowing how they took care of him when they thought him dead, that _might_ not be the best option.

Henry had a choice.

He took out the red megaphone device and dropped his purse back into his pocket. Henry pointed the device at the giant glass window opposite the door. He pressed down on the trigger to release a sonic pulse. A low hum very, very quickly increased in pitch and volume until he could not as much hear the squeal as _feel_ it in his extremely powerful headache. Within seconds of hearing the noise, his skull and everything inside it could no longer take the strain.

He flopped back, dropping the device in the process.

**That hurt my ears! >:(**

Well _sorry_ Not-Angel, that hurt Henry’s entire damn head.

Against his better judgement, Henry took out the teleporter. He didn’t know _why_ using the teleporter would be an obviously terrible choice. He remembered feeling… not so great the last few times he’d considered using it. Had he failed and died? Well, only one way to find out, he guessed. Now, he figured he was… a long way down. That’s no help. Maybe…

Henry looked out the window. Oh. So, he was… twelve stories from the surface, and his room was twice his height. He was six feet tall. So, twelve times twelve was one-forty-four. He typed in the amount of times necessary for the x-axis. He wanted _away_ from the complex, so another two hundred feet wouldn’t hurt on the y-axis. Nothing on the z-axis again. He narrowed his eyes and pressed the big red button. He felt himself get lighter and a few weird squares scanned his body up and down and the environment around him faded.

Henry blinked and he was no longer in the cell. He looked around, confused. He was on an asteroid surrounded by astronaut-creatures–they didn’t look to be in regular baggy suits, but rather tighter, weaponized ones with oblong helmets–and a giant monstrous golden tech-like… bug in front of them? It looked more like an overly fancy gold-and-blue mechanical spider but with six long, even legs and tiny wings on the side. One of the astronaut-creatures held up one of two of its glowing blue swords and cried, “Come on now, brothers!” They charged, bringing Henry with them. “For the life of–” Its words were cut off by screams as two lasers erupted from the monster and crossed over them.

**gg no re**

So, teleporter didn’t work. He had a feeling it wouldn’t, but he could try. The sonic gun didn’t work, either. He was afraid of the cookie–never eat anything that tells you to eat it, you might just wake up in another city in someone else’s clothes with a goat and a broken “chaos staff,” as what Howie liked to say–and he doubted faking an illness would work. They’d probably throw him out the body chute again.

Well, only one option left.

Henry took out the laser. It fled from his grasp and hovered before him. Then, it jerked to the side, its geometrically perfect trail flashing red like a full panel. It went again and again and again until it reached its starting point.

Henry gasped as the ground fell away and he plummeted into the ground floor. He landed with both feet and one hand securely on the incredibly thick cement floor of his former cell. He winced upon seeing the lower half of a body poking out from under the debris. Henry inspected his surroundings, finding a metal filing cabinet, a clock on the wall, a door, and a desk with a computer and a few papers. On the ground just barely out of reach of the cement block was a cellphone. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 10:01. AM or PM? Henry plucked the phone off the ground. Ah. AM.

God, Henry was terrible at time zones.

Henry sat down on the cement slab and pressed a few buttons until he got to the “CALL” screen. His finger hovered over the screen but didn’t press anything. Of course, Dad Reginald was the first person he’d call and ask for help. But to run into a place like this? That’s what Terrence did, and it led to a few people being captured or killed. Howie almost died and his father did. They captured Afanasiy because he got on the ship, and he ended up kidnapping Henry and Katie. What if it happened again?

Well, the Wall was a prison. Who better to get him out of a prison than the government?

So, he typed in another number familiar to him.

The phone rang once before being picked up. “ _Yeah?_ ” asked Charles.

“Hey!”

“ _Oh, Henry!_ ” Charles’ calm voice pitched in excitement. “ _How’s it goin’?_ ”

“Yeah, pretty well,” Henry said. “Er, kinda. I got in a bit of trouble.”

“ _Uh huh._ ” His voice smoothed over again, professional but still friendly.

“I was on a business trip and got, uh, in a crash.” _That he started, but Charles didn’t need to know that._

“ _Yeah._ ”

“Then I got captured.”

“ _Oh…_ ”

“But it wasn’t from the government, I was pretty much the adult form of kidnapped.”

“ _Uh huh._ ”

“So, I called, and I was wondering if you could help.”

“ _Oh, I see._ ”

“It’s not illegal, I don’t think. These guys are being illegal.”

“ _Huh._ ”

“So, do you think you could help me out?”

“ _Yeah, I’m-uh… flying right now, actually. Where, uh, where are you?_ ”

“I’m at a complex. The Wall. You’ve heard of it, right?”

“ _Hmm… the Wall. Yeah, I… think I’ve heard of that place. Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m on a mission, but, uh, I should have some time to swing by._ ”

“Awesome, thanks!” Henry laid down on the cement. They talked for a short while before Charles was forced to hang up. So, Henry played on the phone until the battery started running low and focused on the clock. It was then he realized his hat was still on his head. Maybe it would be best if he didn’t run into Charles wearing a top hat. He squished the top part down until it was flat as a disk and, being very careful not to tarnish the fabric, folded it at a certain spot. It disappeared into his purse just inside of his pocket. By the time his phone rang again, an hour had passed.

Henry sat up, the phone to his ear before he consciously realized it. “ _Hey! So, uh, I’m getting pretty close…_ ”

Henry quietly opened the door and peeked outside. The gargantuan room was full of long tables, people scattered about with trays of food before them. The wall opposite was made almost entirely of windows overlooking the sea and fluttering snowflakes.

“ _Yeah, just try to get outside and I’ll-I’ll, uh, ya’know._ ”

Henry, putting down the fluttering of excitement in his heart, carefully made his way across the room to a door on the wall nearby. Snow fluttered just outside of the small window.

The guard nearest to the edge looked over and perked up. He pointed a finger at the man and yelled, “Hey!”

Henry bristled and turned on them as the guards got up to meet him.

Henry had a portable bubble shield. He had the ability to move earth and metal without touching them. He also had a device _almost_ like the teleporter, if the teleporter only worked for a few feet and he needed to go on foot.

Henry had a choice.

He stomped his foot into the cement ground, pulling a chunk of cement from beneath him and shoving it forward. A blonde woman was instantly thrown back. He pulled up a slab of the floor to defend against the bullets the first got shot at him. A chunk of rock whizzed by his head and sank into the stone of the wall. Henry turned to find more guards, one of them holding a few rocks above his hand, as Henry had done when he was younger, and a large boulder behind him. Not that it was a kid’s move, he just really liked watching the rocks float. Ellie could make things float–though most of the time she overshot and lost control–but was oddly shy about it. So, they both kept those abilities as a secret–even from Charles, upon Ellie’s request.

Henry managed to punch two of the rocks, but a third hit him square in the forehead.

He fell back, hitting the ground hard below him.

**You were doing so well!**

Was the Not-Angel being genuine or sarcastic? For once, it was hard to tell.

Henry stared at the guard who now held a pistol pointed at him. He glanced back as the man talked. “Where are you going?”

Then, Henry vanished in a flash of gold and red light and bulbs.

“Wut.”

Cold slammed into him as he reappeared outside on a fire escape staircase, having moved so quickly he himself didn’t quite catch what happened. He smiled and then shivered as the intense cold bit straight through his clothes. His phone beeped and he held it up. Charles’ voice came out the receiver. “ _Hey, so, uh, I see the Wall._ ”

“I’m outside.”

“ _Oh, you’re outside?_ ” Did he not hear him that well? Probably the reception. “ _Nice! Oh, I think I see you. Yeah… there’s a guard in the way._ ” Henry looked up. At the landing a story above him was another guard looking over the ocean. Henry was below him and far enough at his side he was almost behind the man. “ _I got this._ ” A smug, excited chip entered the man’s otherwise cool tone.

God, Charles was great.

Henry took a deep, quiet breath and watched the green helicopter hovering too far away to see the pilot within. Wait, what about if Charles just swung by and threw him a rope? He didn’t have to fly too far up or forward that he could be spotted by a SAM turret or whatever. He could shoot a grappling hook into the railing and Henry could be home free! Though, maybe he should get Charles’ input first. “Do you have a plan?”

He heard a small gasp from the other end. “ _Yeah! I got the_ perfect _plan…_ ”

Henry’s automatic grin faltered. Was… was that helicopter getting closer? Oh. Oh no.

“ _This is the Greatest PLANNNN!_ ” Henry bristled and stepped back as did the guard above as the helicopter’s shadow fell over them so close Henry _could_ see the man within.

**Hey, look! Charles is here!**

Okay, so, Charles was amazing and all, but Henry almost forgot about his tendency to… fly headfirst into a situation. “Uh… what about a smaller helicopter?”

“ _Huh? Okay._ ” Aw, he could hear the disappointment in Charles’ voice. Well, better to be disappointed than dead.

A little green helicopter dropped out from under the bigger one and flew forward. The guard on top of the stairs gave it a weird look as it approached. It stopped about a foot away. A little rope burst out and attached itself to the side of his head. The little thing flew back with surprising strength, throwing off the man’s balance and sending them both plummeting to their doom.

Henry watched him go, though he couldn’t summon any sympathy. Call him a psychopath, but anyone who worked for people who could hold a gun to a kid didn’t deserve sympathy. He shrugged and started climbing.

“ _Annnd there ya go. I’m seein’ a helipad up here. Could be a pretty good place. To get picked up._ ” He paused as the helicopter flew up a little. “ _Uh, once I get close, though, they’ll, uh, they’ll probably raise the alarm._ ”

Henry made it to the top, ducking low out of sight, puffing at the expended energy. There was indeed a helipad up there as well as two people. The one closer to the edge had a sniper rifle, while the one closer to the opposite edge over the snow had a rocket launcher. Henry bristled as an alarm started to go off.

“ _Ohp, yeah, they see me. Alright, I’m comin’, get ready._ ” The helicopter tipped forward.

Henry could run onto the helipad, hoping that he could jump on quick enough to get out of firing range of both the sniper and the rocket launcher guy. He could attack the sniper guy or the rocket launcher guy, but they were too far apart for him to attack both. Or he could just jump off the edge.

Henry had a choice.

Henry sprang onto the top of the building and charged into the rocket launcher guy, throwing him and his weapon down. “Get ’em!” the man yelled from the ground. The sniper rifle guy gasped and turned on Henry. He raised his rifle but didn’t quite get to shoot as Charles’ helicopter landed hard on top of the man, bouncing a little at the extremely fast landing.

The door slid open and Charles’ head poked out, waving. “Hey!”

Henry turned on the former rocket-launcher-guy, shot him a glare and pointed two fingers from his own eyes to the man, and ran into the helicopter. As soon as his feet touched the metal floor of the machine, it was taking off. Charles turned around and flew back the way he came. **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this was a CYOA? This is a CYOA. At least, near the end/the end. Since this is only one branching path, they're in the same document for now. This also makes the end WAAAAAY easier for me to write. Like, loads easier. I can breathe now.
> 
> So, we have the "CA," "PD," and "IRO" routes. From this point forward until otherwise stated, this will be chopped into "CA," "PD," and "IRO." "CA" was inspired by Convict Allies, obviously, and "PD" by Presumed Dead but also Betrayed, and "IRO" by International Rescue Operative. You know, "TB" for the "falling into the ocean" bit. You didn't think they'd fall for the same trick twice, did ya?
> 
> Also, this split ISN'T what the poll was referring to. Just for future reference. That comes later. Chapter 43.
> 
> Also, also: Who else calls a three-tined fork a "threek"?


	36. New

# CA

Henry took a deep breath of the icy winds, which quickly started to bite at his nose and ears. “I half thought you abandoned me.”

“Me? Abandon you?” Ellie scoffed. “Please. What would I tell Charles? …what am I going to tell Charles?”

Henry chuckled. “Yeah, what were you even _doing_ there, Ellie? Last time I checked you weren’t notorious.”

“Excuse you!” Ellie squawked. “I happen to be fiercely known as a bandit that plagued the… alright, well, maybe not a bandit. But I like to think I’m a fairly well-known mercenary. My last job out in Alaska might have ruffled some feathers. What about you? What’s with the fancy suit and tie?”

“I’m a Toppat,” Henry admitted. “Which is probably why they wanted me. I’m pretty well known after all.” Wait.

_Wait._

He just said that out loud.

To _Ellie._

Unknown force, was there any way for him to go back to almost being locked up? No?

Her smirk left her. “A Toppat, huh? That’s, uh… unexpected. I didn’t see that coming, to be honest.”

“Yeah, I never told you guys,” Henry said. “For good reason. Say, it’s really cold. Do you want to ride this bike–”

“Yes,” Ellie stated. “This bike is now mine.”

“Well, okay. Not like I have any other choices, huh?”

Ellie hummed. “So, Henry. Uh… where are you heading?”

“I was just at, uh, well I was east. I _was_ going back to Arizona. But I think I might just go to Alaska.”

Ellie sent a puzzled glance his way. “Arizona or Alaska? You realize those places are on two different ends of the continent, right?”

“Yeah. Well, the Wall guards found me in Alaska and just… were there already, I guess? But since I can’t cross the ocean without a boat or plane, I think I’ll head to there and get on a boat. What about you?”

Ellie made a motion resembling a shrug, though Henry honestly couldn’t tell. “Like I said, I was just in Alaska when that job went sour. It was a nice job, too. Shame. Anyway, I think I’ll find my way back to Nevada.”

Henry reluctantly asked, “What about your bike?”

“Smashed!” Ellie exclaimed, throwing one hand in the air, nearly causing Henry to have a heart attack. “They smashed it to bits! I _would_ have escaped them if they didn’t fuck up my front tire and throw me and my bike off a fucking glacier.” She took a deep, chilly breath. “I managed to jump off and hold onto the edge, but my baby didn’t and exploded on the ground. Ah, well. This bike is mine now. So, I guess I’m happy.”

“Yeah.” Henry ducked his head so the wind no longer burned his face with its frosty chill. “…you know, Ellie. You’re fairly skilled. You’re good with stunt work and I know you’re a good shot. You’re clever, obviously.”

“Yes. Yes, I am. Your point, Papa Hen?”

“Well, now that we aren’t in danger of getting killed or recaptured, I was thinking. I was adopted into the Toppats when I was eleven, a few months before I went to school with you and Charles. But I’ve seen quite a few members join, some even as young as you or I, relatively speaking. So, I was wondering, if I could talk you into…”

“Becoming a Toppat?” Ellie asked, her voice a little hoarse. “You… are really inviting me to join one of the biggest, most notorious criminal groups in the world?”

“Yeah. The Air Division. It’s a little smaller than the Ground or Water Division, but we’re the most mobile, and the highest in the hierarchy of the Toppats. If everyone has to get together at once, the Air Division chief would take over, with the Water Division as second and Ground Division as third.”

Ellie didn’t immediately answer. She stared ahead at the winding road before them. “…You think I’d join the Toppat Clan? I’m not a criminal, Henry.”

“…right,” Henry started. “A-and that’s a big part of being in the Clan. I thought that… we’re friends and… you know what? Forget it. Yeah, it was dumb asking you. Sorry.”

A very long span of silence stretched between them. Henry huddled up against her back and Ellie watched the road before them. The ocean cliffs fell away as the road turned inland.

Eventually, as the sun started to set, the bike slowed.

Henry looked up as Ellie parked her bike, the Wall’s insignia facing the wall of the establishment. He could _feel_ the warmth emanating from the inside. He could hear voices and noise and the very faint smell of food rode upon the less-than-freezing air seeping from the door close to them.

Ellie hopped down and helped Henry. “God, even with all that fancy stuff on, you’re _shivering!_ ”

“I-I expected t-to be in A-Arizona by n-now!” Henry argued, following her into the bar without hesitance. Heat rushed into them like a tidal wave as the door opened and the two scurried inside.

Ellie shook herself off like a damp songbird and wandered to one of the tables near the end of the establishment. Conversations, mostly in English though he caught a few words in French, raised into a dull roar over the bar. She plopped down at one of the tables, running her fingers through her wind-wild hair. “So, Henry. Uh, to continue talking.”

Henry, bundled up and praying the heat would get to him eventually, opened his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I… well, I think I like your idea. A little bit,” she confessed. “You know me. Always been on the straight and narrow, that’s what Charles made sure of. But I hear all kinds of stories. I even chase a few of them down if the cops pay me enough! When, you know, I manage to snag a job. But to be a recruit with a steady job… _that_ sounds like fun. Will I be able to do the stuff you’re able to do?”

“In time,” Henry said with a shrug, thankful he was able to speak properly again. “I mean, not everything happens immediately. You have to have put time into the Clan, you need experience. You need to make a name for yourself. I’ve been in the Clan since I was eleven, but I only became a full member when I was eighteen. Let me tell you, I _still_ have seniors barking at me.” Henry chuckled. “Okay, so, maybe not. I like those guys. But seriously, you might not be planning raids any time soon, but I’m sure you’ll get to be part of the action, _especially_ if they know you’re as clever and competent as you are. You’ve been my friend almost for as long as I’ve known them, and I’m pretty sure my dads know you, too. I never shut up about you and Charles.”

Ellie snorted. “Jeez, you ask my parents about you and I think they’ll say the same. Eh… but maybe they didn’t know you as well as you knew me, huh?”

“Heh. Maybe.” He chuckled and ran his cold fingers over his neck.

“So, your dads,” Ellie stated. “I think you mentioned recently it was, uh…”

“Dad Reginald and Dad Right. They’d been close friends when Dad Reginald and Carol adopted me,” Henry explained. “But Carol wasn’t married and didn’t mother me, which is why I never told you guys about her. Oh, right, they’re the Chief and Deputy. Chief Reginald and Right Hand Man. Carol is a high-ranking executive, mostly in charge of keeping everyone on the straight and narrow.”

Ellie snorted. “You’re a clan of thieves. I think she might want to rethink her job.”

At this, Henry laughed. “Oh man, don’t tell her that! She’d strangle you. Hah! She’s in charge of making sure everyone’s following the rules. And if people _aren’t_ following the rules, she sets them straight. We’ve got other people with similar jobs, but she’s the most vocal of them. Anyway, they trust me, as I do them, and I trust you. So, I’m sure if we talk to them, they’d like to have you, too!”

Ellie smiled, though it looked a little worn. “That sounds great. You know what else sounds great? A _bed!_ A bed and a nice hot meal.”

* * *

# PD

Machinery hummed, its whirring so quiet his fogged senses couldn’t pick up on it. He barely heard the gentle lapping of the choppy waves on the hull of the boat. The taste of… metal and medicine filled his mouth. It almost made him want to gag from surprise and the newness of the taste. Something was stopping the action, though. Suppressing it. Was he under? Was he waking? Was this some fevered state where he toed the line between reality and dreams?

The foul thought of death wriggled its fingers into his foggy brain. As his breathing started to change, the smell of saltwater tried to cut through the fog. It was so sharp, so sudden. It tried to overpower the dull, nigh scentless… place of which he resided.

Below him, Henry felt a stiff bed, though it did give a little under his weight. A thin blanket draped over his body. He let out a tiny noise like a groan.

 _“Henry?”_ The word barely penetrated his bleary mind. _“Henry, are you awake?”_

As much as he wanted to stay down, to keep his eyes closed and to keep still, he… couldn’t. There was distress in this voice. God, he didn’t want to stress more people out than he already did. His stupid stunt of being captured by the Wall was probably already a cause of concern he had yet to address.

So, Henry opened his blurry, heavy eyelids. There was a shape above him, but he couldn’t quite pin down a solid outline, or even where the light and dark colors separated. Black and gray, white, brown, yellow… wait… no, he knew this person sitting above him.

 _“Henry?”_ the voice asked, a little more urgency in his tone. _“Can you hear me?”_

A weird noise managed to slither out of Henry’s throat in response. He blinked away the sleepiness from his eyes. Sitting above him, shadows under his honey-chocolate eyes, was Dad Reginald.

“D-Dad?” Henry mumbled. “Wha…?”

The man let out a huge sigh. “Oh thank God–Henry, we… didn’t know where you went. You never met up with the sea division. Where did you go?”

“…the Wall…”

“Chief Reginald.”

Dad Reginald looked back as a female voice, smooth though tasting of an edge, called behind him. He responded, “Dr. Vinschpinsilstien? Yes?”

“He is awake?”

“Yes.”

Henry, half numb and dizzy and still struggling to take in his surroundings, pushed himself up so he was sitting. He felt a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady. He looked up at the newest addition to the room: a blonde woman with rose-tinted glasses. A few rebellious strands of hair whisked over her pretty green eyes a little dull from exhaustion. “Hello, Henry,” she greeted, her words tinged by a Russian accent. “You were gone for a bit, but I was able to bring you back to life.”

Henry jolted. “I was dead?” he whispered, his words hardly audible in a wheeze. His throat hurt.

“Yes, but not for long. I was able to bring you back and keep you alive. I also specialize in military grade augmentations,” she said.

Henry blinked. What did that have to do with anything? He raised his left hand to touch the bandages over his head but stopped mid-reach upon seeing metal… way more metal than a wrist band. He held his left arm out. Rather than flesh and skin, he saw _metal_ , banded with rings to give him more movement. A blue bulb inlay in his palm. Henry flexed his fingers. He couldn’t feel the appendages, but he watched as they complied with his will and moved.

“I was forced to replace spine and left arm as some of the damage you sustained was beyond repairing,” Dr. Vinschpinsilstien explained.

Henry reached his other arm to rest on his back. Beneath his clothes, he felt a bump running down to his pelvis. From his neck down to his tailbone was replaced by metal and was raised above the skin. When he tried to turn back, the skin on his back near his spine burned and he stopped, sucking in his breath. Bandages were taped to his back in twin stripes.

“Easy, easy,” she calmed, holding her hands out. “You are still healing. Your spine is above your skin. I was able to connect the skin on your back to the prosthetics, but it will take a little while for you to fully heal.”

Henry nodded as if he understood, barely aware of the action. He heard every word Dr. Vinschpinsilstien said, he knew every individual word and their definitions, but it was as if there was a block in his mind, a dirty filter too thick with particles to allow the words in enough to be understood as coherent thoughts.

“What… what happened?” he managed.

Dr. Vinschpinsilstien said, “I found you in the water, near the Wall. Do you remember anything?”

Henry narrowed his eyes. He tried to reach into his memories, but everything felt so… suppressed, blurry, as if he was wandering through a fog. “There was… snow… cars. Like when I was a kid.” He could still hear the echoing shots of different guns around him. “Guns and… something happened. I fell? Did I fall? I thought I held onto the cliff. With Ka… I fell.” _He held onto the cliff with Katie. Katie had needed him, and the Wall guard didn’t look twice. But it had been a trick. Katie didn’t need him, not right then, and Henry was old enough to know he needed himself more._

Henry shook his head. _Now_ the fog was parting. He gave them a synopsis of what happened, from getting captured to falling out of the air from a parachute. “Wait… Dmitri is dead. Ha!” He couldn’t help the cold, humorless noise. “Deserved it.”

“Dmitri is dead?” Dad Reginald echoed. “The Warden?”

Henry nodded. “As dead as someone who fell off a cliff into the rocks can be.” He looked up. “What now?”

“Now,” Dad Reginald said, “–you recover and learn how to use that.” He gestured to Henry’s new arm.

Henry looked down at his arm again. He held it up and waved it beside himself and opened and closed his hand. “Doctor?” he asked. “What does it do?”

For a moment, he swore he could see a little amusement cross her features. “It functions as your arm did before, at a baseline. However, I went beyond _cybernetic repair_ , which would have kept you from total paralysis and loss of function of your left arm. _Cybernetic augmentation_ allows you to do much more. You are now… hmm…” The specialist paused in thought. “You have new abilities. Hold out your hand for me.”

Henry obeyed, still dazed and hardly able to comprehend this new development.

She stepped to the side and took his wrist. There was a quiet, hardly audible _click_ and quite suddenly his hand was gone. In a _shrik_ of metal scraping upon metal, his hand transformed into a rapier–long and sharp and thin. He jumped and pulled his sword-hand closer to himself. He waved it slowly before himself, watching as the light glinted off the sharp edge. After a moment of thought, he concentrated on his hand. The rapier shortened and widened into a baseball bat.

Henry raised his eyebrows and looked at his father, who mimicked the expression.

Henry turned his bat-hand back into a hand. The bulb glowed, but nothing happened–probably because he didn’t command it to do anything.

“Whoa, whoa!” Dr. Vinschpinsilstien cut in. “Do not use that inside my boat.”

Henry looked up at her. “What…?”

“It is laser.”

“ _Oh._ ” Henry closed his hand. He hummed and looked back, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to see his spine. “So…?”

“There are functions in your spine, too,” Dr. Vinschpinsilstien said. She walked around behind him and explained her work, experimental even by her standards. “I have worked on patients with _partial_ paralysis, where their spine was broken at some point lower in their body. I have also worked with partially severed or cut spinal cords. But I have never replaced one’s entire spine, as I have done with you. Henry, there are a few important points I must explain.”

Henry turned his full attention back to the doctor.

She went on, “Your spine had been close to shattering by the time I found you. Your nervous system now hinges on the technology I have given you. I was required to modify your brain stem to accept the new technology more readily. But your arm and spine will not work forever. You will need to recharge and handle yourself with care. This design will cut all activity with your arm if your cybernetics lose enough power. If they are broken or completely lose power, you will no longer have use of your nervous system. This includes your vital organs, such as your heart and lungs. You _must not_ run out of power. The technology is very efficient, so you may not need to recharge for quite a while. You could use a cord or replace battery in upper spine.”

Dr. Vinschpinsilstien tapped the back of his neck just above his shoulders. “Use of your cybernetics will increase power usage, but you should be able to go about a month before charging. Heavy use or injury can cause you to use more energy. Alert system installed will tell you when you are low on energy.”

Henry set his hands on his lap. “…” He turned to Dad Reginald, who no longer really looked at Henry despite having turned in his direction. His eyebrows were furrowed and eyes unfocused. “When will my skin heal?” Henry asked.

“It should take a few weeks, a month at least, two months at worst.”

Dad Reginald chipped in, “Thank you, doctor.”

“I am doing my job,” she stated, again her tone a little sharper with Dad Reginald than Henry.

Before Henry could question this weird development, Dad Reginald stated, “I must be getting back to the airship. Doctor, is he able to move?”

“Yes. Henry, as I was forced to replace some of your nervous system, there may be times when you feel weak or are unable to properly use your legs or right arm, so you are at risk for falling, at least for the next month. Take it easy and check up with your own doctor frequently.”

Henry nodded and pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled and almost immediately fell but was able to catch himself on his bed. Dad Reginald rushed around to his side and held onto his right hand. Henry took a deep breath and walked. This… would take some getting used to.

* * *

# IRO

Henry took a deep breath, sitting strapped down in his chair with his back against the cold metal. It was warmer in the chopper, at least!

“Hey, Henry!” Charles greeted. “Nice to see you again.”

Henry opened one eye. “Good to see you again, man!”

Charles grinned back at him and turned forward again. The grin faded. “So, uh… you remember me talking about the captain, don’t you?”

Henry hid a grimace. “Yeah.”

“I was able to swing by and pick you up, but with his permission. Well, he had to sanction this pick up,” Charles explained. “In return we kinda need your assistance. I hope that’s alright.”

 _Working for the government. Well, Charles did save his life._ “…sure. What do you need help with?”

“Great!” His smile returned. “So, uh, you know the Toppats, right?”

_Oh fuck._

“Yes,” Henry managed, hoping to God his voice didn’t waver.

“Oh, cool! Well, they’ve been causing us a lot of trouble,” Charles explained. “So, we’ve, uh, we’ve been looking for some help. In taking them down. You see, uh, we don’t really have any solid evidence on them as a whole. We know they’re doing something illegal, but we can’t really pin down what. The Captain knows about you and how skilled you are, so he wanted your help, anyway. He, uh… heh… he knows you don’t have the cleanest record out there.” Charles chuckled, though it was a little uneven. “He agreed to help you out if you help us out, ya’know?”

Henry turned away so Charles couldn’t see his facial expression. _What did you get yourself into this time, Henry?_ “…Um… what are my other options?”

Charles gave him an odd look. “Other options? What do you mean?”

“I know I broke out of jail and tried to sneak into a vault. But I’ve never tried to go against anyone like the Toppats. I heard of them at the Wall. I heard they’re one of the biggest organization of thieves out there. You don’t really think I’d be able to go in there and get out that easily, do you?”

“Oh, yeah! Of course I do! You’re amazing!” Charles said unhelpfully. “You could take down that whole airship on your own if you wanted to.”

Henry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “…uh, okay. I mean, maybe. But if they do catch me? If you can’t arrest all of them? What if they know who I was, and they went after you or Ellie?”

 _This_ quieted the man.

“…Ellie can kick anyone’s butt, Henry. You know that. In fact, the Captain tried contacting her first! And you know me, I’m, uh, I’m not afraid of some thieves!”

“You got a point,” Henry relented. _Jesus Christ, please take the hint, Charles!_ “But…” Henry let out a quiet sigh. “Look, I can try, but I don’t know if I can guarantee anything.” _Maybe he could fake them out? Grab some fake documents, something worthless to the government? They had some fake documents that looked very real at first glance, and it’s not like they’d be counting on him to comb through every detail on such a dangerous mission._ “Actually, yeah. You helped me, I’ll help you back. I owe you one.”

Charles glanced back at him, absolutely beaming. “You will? Awesome! I’ll swing by the base and we can talk to the General! Oooh this is going to be _awesome!_ ”

Henry chuckled. “Yeah. Awesome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much is going on so fast. From this point, you can see each route is distinct. I'll try to keep each segment on the lower end, but forgive me if these chapters turn into absolute monsters!
> 
> Also, we get to meet our favorite specialist: Dr. Vinschpinsilstien! (I can almost write her name without needing to look it up! :3)


	37. Vroom, Vroom

# CA

There was no putting into words the pure _joy_ Henry felt. Even being captured by the Wall was no longer negative. After all, if they hadn’t captured him and brought him back, he would have never met Ellie at the Wall and helped her escape. Then he wouldn’t have asked to recruit her and then he wouldn’t have his _best friend_ most likely become a Clan member. How could this day get any better?

Choppy waves sloshed over the pebbly shore. Snow danced in the wind and caught on the grass and brush and ice-slicked stones and sand. Ellie dropped off her hijacked motorcycle against the cozy inn huddled on the edge of town, overlooking the vast sea, its shore hidden beneath the snowy cliffs.

Henry, sitting in the bathroom in the warmth of the inn, pulled out his phone and typed in a familiar number. “Hey!”

“ _Henry!_ ” Howie exclaimed. “ _Where’ve ya been?_ ”

“Eh, meeting up with a few people who didn’t want to talk to me, nearly drowning and freezing to death, getting captured, and then totally busting out of the strongest prison on Earth _again!_ This time as an inmate!”

“ _…an’ why am Ah surprised?_ ”

“I don’t know, honestly.”

“ _We’ve been pretty worried about ya,_ ” Howie said. “ _Where are ya?_ ”

“Canada, still,” Henry replied. “Well, I can ride somewhere further south and meet you guys in the middle. Actually, that’s what I want to talk about. I’m not driving there myself. You see, I met up with Ellie at the Wall.”

“ _Shut up._ ”

“No! I did! It’s amazing!” Henry’s voice raised in a squeak. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I was wondering if, ah… it would be a good idea to talk to Dad.”

“ _…ya aren’t gonna say what Ah think yer gonna say, are ya?_ ”

“Well, if you think I’m going to say that I would like to have Ellie as a recruit, then yeah, I am.”

“ _Okay, Henry, Ah’m real glad you managed to bust yerself out, but ya know it’s the chief who handles that sort of thing!_ ”

“Which is why I’m going to ask him!” Henry agreed. “I’m just thinking it would be a good idea to get your input first.”

He heard a loud groan on the other side of the line. “ _You’re lucky Ah’m yer friend, Henry. Yeah, Ah think it’s a good idea. Ellie’s been a lifelong friend to ya, and if she can escape the Wall, Ah think she has potential._ ” He took a deep breath. “ _Alright. Well, Ah’ll talk to ya later._ ”

“Thanks, Howie! Talk to you later!”

_Click._

Henry let out a sigh that slowly turned into a whistle. He typed in a number, only to pause at the last digit. “Come on, Henry. It’s not a big deal. Worst case scenario, he says no. Best case scenario, you get to have your best friend as a partner.”

The phone picked up almost immediately. “ _Henry?_ ”

“It’s me! Hey, Dad!” Henry hummed.

“ _God dammit…_ ” Dad Reginald mumbled. “ _The minute you go on a solo mission and you’re almost locked away in the Wall._ ”

Henry chuckled. “Yep! So, uh, I busted out of the Wall. But I had help. Ellie helped me bust out. In fact, I don’t think I would have been able to do it without her!”

“ _Really?_ ” Dad Reginald asked. “ _Well! She certainly has some skills. She works as a mercenary, you said?_ ”

“She does! But I was just thinking. We were riding away from the Wall, thinking we can meet somewhere warmer. And we got to talking. She’s been my best friend ever since we were both little and she’s really strong and clever. I was wondering… if we could talk about, I don’t know, recruiting her?”

…

Henry went on, “But you know, if that’s a bad idea, that’s okay, I guess. She’s just really good so I thought she would be a massive help, you know?”

“ _Henry, you can’t spring decisions on me like this,_ ” Dad Reginald stated. “ _This is a long process, we need to do a background check, know who she is, see if she’s a right fit for the Clan._ ”

“You’ve met her before, and I’ve pretty much told you all about her,” Henry pointed out. “But just think about it? Please? We still have a while longer of driving before we can find any rendezvous site. Ellie just finished a job, obviously, so I’ll be riding with her for a while longer.”

“ _Yes, yes. We will talk about it,_ ” Dad Reginald stated. “ _Stay safe, Henry._ ”

“I will. You two, Dad! Tell Dad I love him!”

“ _I will. Do be safe._ ”

_Click._

Henry put away his phone and got up. Just then, Ellie walked into the room having left the bathroom. “So, what’d your old man say?”

Henry chuckled and made the bed. “Well, he said they would talk it over.”

“And what does that mean?”

“They’ll talk it over. Dad’s not the kind of person to say ‘maybe’ and then ‘yes.’ When he says ‘maybe,’ he literally means ‘maybe.’”

Ellie puffed, “Wow. So, how about we continue that bike ride?”

“Actually…” Henry glanced back. Sitting in the corner were two men in heavy clothes and knitted hats. One had a navy blue, fluffy top hat while the other was more akin to a round cap with thick purplish maroon fabric. They talked over a small table against the wall, a beer open between them, the two somehow surviving the wind squeezing between a few thin cracks. “There are a couple of people I want to talk to, first.”

* * *

# PD

Henry cursed himself as they moved. He knew that he was still _healing,_ and he was _in recovery_ and he’d just gone through something physically–and _maybe_ psychologically–traumatic but he hated feeling so… fragile. They took a pod back to the airship, where they were almost immediately greeted by Howie, Cool Katie, and Dad Right. He could see them through the glass before they caught sight of him. Dad Right looked none too pleased with the two clan members–probably because there was probably stuff they were supposed to be doing on the ship–but as they were there, Henry could only guess he hadn’t felt like sending them away.

“Hey, li’l buddy!” Howie’s voice was the first he heard. “Yer back! God above, don’t scare us like that again, huh?”

“They wouldn’t let us near you,” Cool Katie explained. “So, _he_ dreamt up all kinds of bad scenar… whoa, what happened to your arm?”

Henry held up his left arm and smiled. “She replaced it.”

Howie muttered, “Jesus. Your entire arm?”

“And spine, yeah.”

“Yer _what?_ ”

Dad Reginald stated, “Howie, Henry must not be left alone for the time being. Dr. Vinschpinsilstien said that he will have recovered in a month, perhaps longer. Until then, as you are his closest friend on the ship, if he’s not with us that you–either of you, if necessary–keep an eye on him.”

“Dad,” Henry protested. “I can take care of myself.”

“You almost _died_ , Henry,” Dad Reginald reciprocated. “You have a tendency to get yourself into trouble, and I will not allow you to do any further damage to yourself. As the chief, I must make sure my clan stays in good health and safety. But as your fathers, it’s our responsibility to keep you safe.”

Henry pouted. “I _know_ that. But I can look after myself. I’m not a baby. Howie, tell him!”

“Li’l buddy, ya got arrested twice–once by the Wall–and almost died at least twice this year alone. They got a point.”

Cool Katie chipped in unhelpfully, “Most of it happened when you were on your own!”

Henry shot her a hurt look. “Katie!”

She shrugged. “It’s true.”

“I must go back to piloting the ship,” said Dad Reginald. “As you are recovering, your jobs on the ship will be suspended, for the most part. As such, you may come with us.”

Henry thought for a moment. “…actually, I think I’ll stay down for a while.”

Howie chipped in, “Ah can help him from here, Chief.”

Dad Reginald reluctantly let go. “Alright, then. Be careful, Henry.” With that, he and Dad Right–neither of them overly eager to start moving–left.

Once they were out of earshot, Howie asked, “What are ya plannin’?”

“Nothing!” Henry countered.

Cool Katie and Howie crossed their arms.

“Don’t look at me like…” Henry sighed. “I wanted to take a walk and then talk to Ellie and Charles.” A thought popped into his head. “I didn’t tell you guys about the Wall.”

Cool Katie grinned. “You have to, now.”

“It’s required,” Howie agreed. “As yer honorary cousin and former shadow, it’s practically the law ’round here.”

Henry sighed, unable to shake a smile. “Okay, okay. So, I was in a bar in Alaska…”

They stayed captivated by his story. Henry, feeling a little prouder of himself than he probably should, described his capture and then his escape with gusto. He skipped over any time that he’d failed and didn’t mention the Not-Angel. As outlandish, but true, as his stories were, he had a feeling that was one line they wouldn’t believe. The memory of Ellie edged his mind. Had she been able to use his explosive escape to sneak out herself? She hadn’t followed him. Though, if she _did_ follow him, there was no guarantee she would have survived the fall. After all, Henry barely did.

By the end of his story, Henry was able to stand on his own. “…then I woke up in that boat.”

Howie whistled. “That’s quite the story.”

Cool Katie chuckled. “If you hadn’t been in surgery for a few hours and asleep all day, I’d call bullshit on it. How does this sort of thing keep happening to you?”

“No idea.” _Did the Not-Angel do that? Attract weirdness to him? Or was weirdness naturally attracted to him and the Not-Angel just got to him first? Technically, the first Angel got to him before his life went weird. Wouldn’t it be ironic if the force that tried desperately to keep him alive in dangerous situations as a child attracted–consciously or inadvertently–this chaos?_

* * *

# IRO

Their flight was long. So long, in fact, that they were told it would be better for them to get some sleep. Charles went back to his apartment. Henry was allowed–told–to sleep on base. Charles managed to allow him to sleep over at his place rather than in an apartment or tent that would be closely watched by people he didn’t know who’d probably shoot him without asking. He vaguely recognized one of them with sideburns, who threw a scathing look at him the moment he showed his face. Henry returned the look. Who was that guy?

In the morning and after a standard military breakfast that made Henry once again glad he lived with the Toppats, they met with the Captain. Captain Galeforce and one other soldier went with them to Charles’ helicopter for takeoff.

They didn’t think Henry would slip away, did they? Charles was Henry’s best friend! Why would he run now knowing it would get Charles in trouble? Thankfully, his friend looked no less pleased to have him, even excited to get into the air this early. The sideburns guy held a rifle and still glared at Henry, as if hoping he’d burst into flames through sheer willpower.

The Captain spoke as they started to fly, a clipboard in his hands. “Henry Stickmin. You’ve been quite elusive. But your skills make you quite the ally.” _As if Henry hadn’t been as much asked as told beforehand, right?_ “You’ll be perfect for the job. We’ve been having some issues with a group of thieves known as the Toppat Clan. We know they’re guilty, we just can’t pin ’em to any crimes.” _Wasn’t that rich?_ “You’ll be goin’ into their airship to bring ’em down.”

Captain Galeforce looked down at the clipboard in his hand. He flipped through a couple of pages. “I don’t need to remind you that we’ve got you on several charges. Attempted robbery…” He flipped the page. “…breaking yourself out of prison…” He flipped the page again with a quiet huff that resembled a chuckle. “…even stealing the Tunisian Diamond.” He looked up at his clipboard at Henry, who tried his best to look cool and a little nervous at the same time. “We’ve got a lot of counts on you. Do this job right, and we’ll drop all charges against you.” He tipped his head to Charles, who concentrated on the flight ahead. “Charlie will be bringing you in close to the airship. The rest is up to you.”

The door opened, giving Henry a full view of the side of his home. “Find a way to bring ’em down and you’ll be a free man.” He walked toward the front of the helicopter again.

Charles asked, “So, uh, how do you want me to bring you in?”

Henry looked over the helicopter, ignoring the third soldier with them. Well, there was a giant plastic ball, a large, rolled up sticky hand, and a grapple gun and earpiece sitting on a crate. He immediately took a few gadgets from inside the box he’d need to use. He _could_ grapple himself into the airship and call it a day. The canon ball would probably break something big time and his parents might actually kill him–or Charles if they knew the situation. The pink sticky hand could attach him to the airship _without_ breaking anything. Oooor he could contact Charles via earpiece and find out what kind of things the government knew about the Toppat Clan, or at least their knowledge of the layout of the airship.

Henry had a choice.

Henry took the earpiece and put it on. Hey, a nice fit! If it wasn’t connected to a government channel, he might wear it more often. He gave Charles the thumbs up. The pilot nodded in reciprocation and turned the helicopter. Being smaller, lighter, and faster, he was able to hover over the top, _hopefully_ undetected. Though, Henry didn’t know much about the airship’s outer defense systems.

Henry hopped down in front of a hatch.

“ _Check, check, this is Charles!_ ” Charles announced. “ _Just thought I’d give you a head’s up. Uhh, there’s a guy down there. A bad guy. So, uh, yeah. Good luck._ ”

Ah, Hatchman was probably there. Henry shrugged and gave the hatch a knock. It opened to reveal Hatchman, as Henry expected. The man’s narrowed eyes softened. “Oh, hey! What are you doing up here?”

Henry gestured to himself and then down.

“Oh, sure.” The man climbed down, allowing Henry to do the same and shut the hatch behind him. “What _were_ you doing up there?”

Henry signed, “ _Helping out the government_.” Knowing Hatchman didn’t understand ASL, Henry shrugged and gestured to the escape pod.

Hatchman nodded in understanding. “Got stuck up there once or twice myself with those finicky things. Gotcha. Well, have a nice day!” He leaned on the ladder up to the hatch again.

Henry wandered up to the Boardroom. He put on his hat and started to walk through.

“Alright, gentlemen. We’ve been tasked with…” started Slice. “Wait, Henry?”

Henry stopped and looked back at him.

“The chief’s been looking all over for you! Where’ve you been? You better head up to the Bridge.”

Henry glanced back at the doorway.

“Ah, I’m sure he’s not mad. I could call him.” Before Henry could shake his head, Slice took out a walkie talkie. “Hey, Chief? Yeah, I found Henry. He’s in the Boardroom. … Sure thing, boss. … Uh, okay. Yeah. Will do.” He turned off the walkie talkie. “He’s in the Bridge. He didn’t sound in a bad mood, but you should still head over there.”

Henry nodded and continued walking. _Welp._

**You know, maybe making your presence known while on a government mission _might_ be a bad idea.**

Henry looked through his pockets and pulled out a large bottle of glue. Well, sticky glue, don’t fail him now! Please!

Henry covered his hands in the stuff, slipped through the door, and climbed up onto the ceiling.

“…nah, we can’t do that.” This was from Floyd…? Yeah, it was the guy with the orange top hat talking.

“Why not?” asked Magnus, the one in a powder blue hat and blonde goatee.

Slice spoke up. “You do realize how much a solid gold canon would weigh, don’t ya?”

Henry nearly snorted. New guys. A solid gold canon had to be the dumbest idea this week.

“Dude, we totally got enough power! What do you think, man?”

“Well, I’m still kinda new here.” Oh, that was Winston. He lost his job after Henry was found in the vault. They… tended to avoid each other. “So, I’m not really sure what to say.”

Henry fell off the ceiling once the glue’s usability ran out and landed in the next room. As he heard the elevator open, he jumped into the garbage chute. “Ugh, door’s jammed again!” he heard Douglass call.

Henry attempted to keep himself at such an angle where he wouldn’t be able to break through the lining of the chute, but unfortunately the air that sucked him through was unhappy with attempts to slow down. When he hit an elbow in the pipe, he burst out and landed hard in the platform close to the Brig.

Henry pulled himself up and glanced back. He knew at least half a dozen ways to get over the gap in the engine room. He knew this route a bit better than most, though. Did Charles?

“ _Oh, hey, uh, do you see that records sign? Where it says ‘Records?’_ ” Charles asked. “RECORDS” was painted on the wall above the platform to the records room, yes. It was easy to spot as the sunlight spilling through the windows here lit up the area. “ _That’d probably be a good place to look, right? Let me just, uh, help you get across that gap._ ”

Henry could ask for Charles’ help, test his knowledge of the ship. Henry also knew about some of the tech they had onboard the helicopter, as Charles had enthusiastically told them the last time the three of them met. So, that was… a platform that could be teleported in, a gravity bubble, and a little fox-shaped contraption whose tail acted as a helicopter rotor. Any one of them could probably get him across.

Henry had a choice.

“Can you help?” Henry asked.

“ _Alright, here I come~!_ ” Charles all but sang. Henry’s eyebrows furrowed. What did that mean? Then, the pilot started singing fanfare, two voices shouting dimly in the background. Henry turned to see Charles’ helicopter gaining on the airship _fast._

**Not again! You should know better!**

Henry thought for a moment. Well, he’d never used a _gravity bubble_ of all things. So, he prompted Charles on it. Well, there was that thing at the Wall…

“ _Yeah, I have this thing here that can manipulate gravity. It should be able to get you to float across._ ” Henry looked around as a big blue bubble appeared around him. It almost looked geometric with wobbly surfaces and lines. There was a hum from the other line as Charles thought about something. What did he need to think about? How much he should change gravity? That was a possibi–

Henry smacked hard into the ground.

“ _Did it work?_ ”

**So, wait… Does ‘Up’ increase gravity or does it lift you into the air?**

_It increases gravity, apparently._

“How about the fox-copter?” Henry asked. He knew that wasn’t the name, but they had decorated the helicopter toys plenty of times, one of the most memorable being the bat-copter.

“ _Alright, here it comes._ ”

An orange, metal box broke through the metal wall of the ship and landed in front of him. It transformed into an anthropomorphic fox with two tails and red and white shoes. It held its arms out and together like a glider as it flew up, “hands” clasped together. Henry grabbed onto the holder. It started across the gap immediately. Its motor hissed at one point and jerked down, but it easily recovered. Henry, who’d seen the bottom of the gap far below, nearly had a heart attack. He gladly dropped down on the other side, allowing the fox-copter to fly back to the helicopter.

The other room was large with a slope going up to a landing. Two large holes were on either side of the ramp, and a giant window peeked within. Henry stopped upon seeing Wilhelm at the card machine beside the door. “Put the card in,” he stated and swiped his ID card. It beeped back, high pitched and annoying.

He heard Charles chuckle on the other side of the line. “ _I don’t think that guy knows how to open the door. Yeah, why don’t you let me take care of this?_ ”

“I don’t understand this!” Wilhelm groaned in frustration, his German accent more pronounced now.

Henry shook his head, though he knew Charles wouldn’t get it at this point. Though… maybe he could open the door remotely? Charles could open the door remotely, use a gatling gun–killing one or both of them–or a mind control device, help Wilhelm out himself, or perhaps a bone melter.

Henry had a choice.

Well, melting one’s bones would probably kill the man, the gatling gun could kill him or Henry or both, and mind control was a little sick, so he should lean on remote access first.

“Remote access?”

“ _Alright, uh, I’ve hacked into their security system._ ” Well, that’s not good. “ _Should be able to open the door from here._ ”

A piece of the metal floor under Henry flipped upwards on a hinge, throwing Henry into the hole.

**Woops, wrong subroutine.**

Henry let out a quiet sigh. So much for staying stealthy. At least he knew they didn’t have a great grasp on the system itself. Probably. Or maybe Charles just mixed something up? Anyway, that was a bust.

Henry pulled on his hat and, praying he looked fake to Charles, walked up to the man.

Wilhelm looked behind himself. “Huh?”

Henry pointed back to the engine room and urgently signed, “ _I think something’s wrong with the engine room!_ ”

Wilhelm narrowed his eyes. “Engine room? Something… what about it?”

Henry shrugged and signed again, slower this time so he could understand, “ _I don’t know, but I just tried to get across and almost fell down there. I think someone dropped something?_ ”

Wilhelm sighed and set a hand to his head. “Thanks for informing me, Henry. I’ll be right back.”

Henry watched him go before walking up to the door. He unlocked the door with his own card, though he loudly pressed a couple of buttons to alert Charles to the keypad rather than the card. The door opened, allowing Henry inside.

“Oh man, I remember this,” claimed Harold. The blue-hatted man with a pinched top to his hat sat at the round table in the center of the room, his back to Henry. “Good thing nobody knows about this or we’d be in a lot of trouble.”

Henry could distract the man with a spider on a string that sat close by, attack him with a ninja star, or maybe hit him with a good Falcon Kick. Strangely, time didn’t pause.

Henry had a choice.

Er–

“ _Oh man!_ ” Charles laughed, his voice loud and clear. Harold turned around and gave Henry a flat look, which quickly turned to suspicion. “ _That duck just flew right into the propeller! Oh man, what a mess!_ ”

**This isn’t a good time Charles…**

**_ But still, that sounds crazy! _ **

_Welp. Sorry Harold!_

Henry took the spider on a string and held it above his head, low enough for the man to see it. Harold looked up. “Oh, hello Mr. Spider.”

Henry rolled his eyes and smacked him in the head with the stick.

Harold fell over without resistance, his hat falling off his head. Oh, speaking of hats, Henry should probably put his away. So, he did just that. He’d be meeting Charles again very soon. As Charles laughed over the gross situation outside, Henry walked up to one of the filing cabinets set up in a ring around the room and opened a drawer. It was a drawer of documents filled with crimes from other organizations. A dummy document would do him well until someone took a second look at it. But _these_ were real. He knew it was supposed to be blackmail, but honestly it was a small sacrifice. So, Henry chose the nastiest organization he could think of and pulled out a thick, bound folder. He still got a sick feeling twisted up in his gut knowing some of the undignified, heinous crimes that group committed. He held it to his chest and walked toward the opposite door.

“ _Alright, you got some evidence!_ ” Charles congratulated. He interrupted himself and his voice turned urgent. “ _Whoa, wait, wait._ ”

Henry stopped, blinking. What was wrong with the next room? Was there a meeting going on?

“ _There’s no way you’re getting through there. Lots of guys and there’s lots of guns, that’s all I’m gonna say. Iiiiit looks like you could get around if you go through that air duct._ ”

The one that’s electrified for absolutely no reason whatsoever? Henry opened the vent and dropped down anyway. For some unknown reason, they decided to make the air duct even more confusing by adding a ladder to each end. It was more than big enough for him to walk through standing up straight, and just long enough to get past the room above.

“ _Alright, I’ve hacked into their power grid. What do you want me to do?_ ”

Confused and out of ideas as no matter how long he’d been in the airship he’d _never_ found a way through this particular duct, he decided to make the best diversion to think further on his plan. “Baaaa.”

There was a short silence. “ _Okaayy… I-I don’t understand what that means._ ”

If only there was a way to… well, they could shut off the power, right? They could reroute the power or Henry could make a run for it.

Henry had a choice.

Well, he’d always wanted to go through this particular air duct. So, what was wrong with shutting off the power?

“ _Mk! Shutting down the power now!_ ” Charles’ cheerful voice came through. Then, the lights dimmed, making it nearly impossible for him to see through to the other side. Still, the electricity stopped sparking and hissing. Henry grinned and then hesitated as his world started to tip to the side.

**Let’s hope the landing gear still has power.**

Okay, okay, shutting off the power was a little overzealous. Therefore, rerouting it was the best answer there.

“ _Okay, I’ll reroute the power to a random room. That’s fine._ ”

The electricity stopped flickering.

Henry smiled and, waiting a moment to see if the ship would fall, strolled across the bumpy floor and to the ladder beyond. He popped out of the vent and into the Bay. Charles said, “ _I’m right outside, so just open the Bay doors and I’ll, uh, get you on the chopper._ ”

Henry looked over the Bay, finding it mostly empty. That was a given as it was just about lunch time. Unfortunately, Matthew and Benjamin were still in the Bay. Henry hummed and thought for a moment. Well, he didn’t exactly _want_ to be seen. Hatchman and Wilhelm knew he was there, which was bad enough, and he’d tricked them _both_ , which was even worse. Weeeeell, he didn’t have his hat on. Henry shrugged off his jacket and folded it, clinging as tight to it as he did the faux folder. If he kept his head down, they might not recognize him. He’d be an intruder on the ship!

Henry pressed the button near to the ramp leading to a door outside the Bay. An alarm went off as one of the Bay doors opened a few thousand feet in the air. Benjamin and Matthew immediately turned their attention to Henry, who kept his head down and hidden behind the folder. Benjamin yelled, “Hey! What’re you doin’?”

Matthew took a walkie talkie out of his pocket calm as could be. “Yeah, uh, we’ve got a situation down in the cargo bay.” He looked back and jolted upon seeing the military helicopter.

Now all he needed to do was get past those two! Without hurting them, hopefully. Charles had talked about a banana bomb, and what military person didn’t have a flashbang? Also, was there something about sleeping gas…? Henry didn’t exactly have any tools on him. Maybe Charles knew something he didn’t.

Henry had a choice.

“How about a flashbang?” Henry asked.

“ _Sure thing!_ ”

Henry darted across the Bay, attempting to ignore Benjamin and Matthew. Before Benjamin could pull out a weapon, a flashbang shot out from the helicopter and landed among them.

Henry winced at the intense light but kept going. Unfortunately, by the time the dazzling light was out of his eyes and the ringing in his ears stopped, he found the amount of space he had to move through had run out. He ran straight off the edge.

**Wow, that was bright.**

Henry was again by the button. “Any ideas?”

“ _Pssst, hey! There’s a button on your earpiece! You should press it._ ”

Henry did as he was told. It expanded and unfolded, letting go of his ear in the process, into what looked like a weird gun with a soft orange handle, a gray body, and a satellite dish for a head and another orange handle so he could hold it with both hands. Huh. Sweet.

Henry ran toward the exit, coat and folder tucked under his armpit so both hands could hold onto the weapon. When Benjamin attempted to stop him, Henry pointed the gun at them and pressed a button. They went flying into the other side of the airship, hitting the wall with some unfortunate force. Thankfully, when they landed, they both attempted to get up.

The door at the other end of the Bay opened, revealing Dad Right. “What’s goin–?” _Fuck, fuck, fuck–if anyone could recognize Henry, it would be him._

So, Henry decided the best course of action was, instead of waiting for the helicopter, to leap off the edge. He pointed the force gun down and pressed the trigger, shooting himself up and into the helicopter.

He hit the floor of the machine with a huff, releasing the gun as he did so. Thankfully, the laminated, sealed folder stayed pressed down on his chest between his jacket and thin white shirt.

The Captain stood above him as Rupert shut the door to the helicopter. Henry held out the folder. The Captain took the folder with a hum. “Good job. Heh. With this, we’ll be able to take down that airship easily. I think you’ve earned your pardon.”

Henry got up, giving the Captain a thumbs up. He pulled his jacket back on, transformed the force gun back into an earpiece, and sat down. As Captain Galeforce and Rupert–now Henry recognized the guy, he’d taunted Henry in prison–moved to the other side of the helicopter to talk, Henry scooted to the front.

“Good job out there, Henry!” Charles congratulated. “I knew you could do it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that the snowball was split, they're steadily getting larger and more different by the chapter. It's really kinda weirdly fun. Like, I might do this for an original novel. I sort of did the whole "going back in time" thing in my Undertale fanfictions, so I'm not that unused to it, but writing essentially three stories at the same time? Lemme tell ya, it's kinda confusing. For breaks in the story, I used the five asterisks (* * * * *) but for the three different stories, I'll always use a line.
> 
> Also, which one is the real Papa Hen here?
> 
> Also, also: Infiltrating the Airship! You know, that's still my favorite game in the series. So fun. <3


	38. Pardon?

# CA

Henry strolled over to the two chatting idly in the corner. “…we’ll need to leave in a few weeks if we want to be on time,” said the red cap one.

The blue cap one scoffed, “I don’t want to be on caravan duty.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” reassured the red cap one. “It’s–hey!” Immediately, their cool attitude turned sharp. Both turned a hostile stare at Henry and Ellie. “A-B conversation, scat.”

The blue hat one waved his hand at his friend. “Knock it down a peg, ’cap. What do you want?”

Henry held up his hands. “Hey, don’t be so suspicious.” He sat down between them with a relaxed grin. He waved to Ellie, who hesitantly took a seat between him and the red-cap one. “You don’t recognize me?”

The red cap one let out a quiet hiss. The blue hatted one narrowed his eyes and then sucked in his breath. “Waaaaait, you’re the chief’s kid!”

Henry grinned with a swift nod.

“Who’s you’re friend?”

Ellie chipped in, “I’m Ellie. Who are you guys?”

The red cap one glanced around. “Er… yeah. Hey, what are you doing all the way out here?”

Henry smirked and glanced at Ellie. “Hopping fences, climbing walls, trying not to freeze.” His smile fell. “Look, bottom line is: Ellie and I need to get back home. What are you two doing?”

The two looked at each other. The blue hatted one said, “We’re not entirely sure. We just know that we’re being called by the Ground Division. They’re starting to pull their forces and riches.”

Henry raised his eyebrows. “They’re doing _what?_ ”

“Snowcap and I were assigned to caravan duty,” the blue hatted one said. “We’re shipping out soon.”

Henry hummed and narrowed his eyes. “That is a little odd. I’ll need to talk to my father. When are you leaving?”

“Icepick and I are leaving in a couple of weeks,” Snowcap informed him.

“Okay. Well, good luck, you two.” Henry gave them a smile and left, Ellie beside him. “Okay, Dad’s going to call me back with his answer. So, we can wait here for a while.”

Ellie asked, “What if he doesn’t recruit me?”

Henry thought for a moment. “Then… I ride with you back home? Where is that?”

“Oregon,” Ellie informed him.

“Well, I’ll ride with you back to Oregon, then,” Henry stated.

“Cool. Wanna get a head start? Just in case?”

“To get out of this cold? Sure.”

Ellie walked up ahead to open the door for him and then hopped onto the motorcycle. Henry jumped on behind her and held on tight. Although the wind was quite frosty as they drove through the quiet road, Ellie was warm. He didn’t remember the last time he and Ellie rode together, but he knew it wasn’t often. Though there was that time back in February Henry’s scooter got busted. So instead of taking him to the nearest mechanic to look at it, Ellie convinced him to go with her and they rode as fast as humanly possible down into the thick forests of the Midwest. Given it wasn’t cold, but Henry _did_ almost have a heart attack.

Dad Reginald was definitely going to let Ellie into the Toppats. There was nothing else to it. Ellie was an extraordinarily talented woman, and they had both known her for thirteen years. She was Henry’s best friend, and Henry knew her well enough to see her talent. So, really, it was just a matter of time. Right? He hadn’t lied to Ellie; a maybe was a maybe. Ellie’s mother was in the government, that was true. So maybe…

But, no. No, that didn’t matter. Well, very much. They were going to accept Ellie, that was that. There was absolutely no reason–except her mother being in government–to deny her. She even admitted to wanting to be a recruit.

Then came the question: What were they going to tell Charles?

Henry didn’t want to hurt the man. Charles was an amazing human being and shame on anyone who would want to hurt him personally. Henry didn’t want to. Still, if Charles knew he was a Toppat, he’d be morally and legally obligated to hand him over to his boss. The same with Ellie, if Ellie joined them. Henry half-hoped there was a way they could all be together. A team, the Triple Threat. Just the thought sent him soaring. Man, to be together again, this time as friends out in the open with no need to keep secrets from each other!

…oh, but that was a kid’s dream, wasn’t it? They were adults, now. Different people with different lives. They had taken different paths and now were in their own different stories. The thought was just… ugh. Yeah, yeah, the whole “cake and eat it, too” baloney probably applied here somewhere, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t _fair_. Henry liked the guy. Loved hanging out with him, talking, going out to eat and having game nights. His life just wouldn’t be the same without that man. They were best bros, right? Charles had been concerned, not angry, when Henry came back. He’d been disappointed in Henry’s illegal activities but didn’t turn his back on him.

Ellie asked, “So, about the whole Toppats thing. You really think I’d be a good fit?”

“Well you’d be an amazing Clan member,” Henry pointed out. “But the rest is up to you to decide whether or not you _want_ to be one.”

“Okay. Hey, any cute girls there?”

Henry chuckled. “Well, I’ve lived with Katie since she was eight. Miss Demeanor is rather new and she’s kinda cute. But we don’t have _that many_ women. At least, our age.”

“Damn. You should change that.”

Henry chuckled and then gasped. “Wait! I know! Joan recently became a full member.”

“ _Joan?_ Joan Scone?”

“Yep!”

“Daaaaaaamn. Didn’t know she’d become a Toppat.”

“I know right?”

“So, what about that cousin of yours? Howie?”

“Toppat. I moved in with him after my adoption. He was adopted, too.”

“So _that’s_ why Mom always gave him weird looks. And why you were adamant about never letting anyone over to your house.”

Henry shrugged. “Dad said I couldn’t bring friends over to the airship. Especially ones with government family. Like you and Charles.”

“Heh. I understand why. So, while you were raised by the Toppats, did you ever go on any extra dangerous missions?”

A wide grin spread across his features. “Oh, definitely. Where do you want to start?”

“Hmm… your first heist!”

“Ooooh! I did that when I was eighteen, old enough to become a full member. It was just about two months after my ceremony, to set the scene. Howie doesn’t normally go on the big heists, he mainly deals with negotiations, deals, and checking–or following–up–on clients. So, he wasn’t with me, which was a little sad. So, anyway, it was Tony, Wallace, Matilda, and I…”

* * *

# PD

Before he could trap the words in his mind, Henry asked, “Hey, you two can keep a secret, right?”

Howie blinked. “A’ course.”

Cool Katie tipped her head a little. “Er… yeah…? Why?”

Henry bit his tongue. “Look, I don’t want to get you on the wrong end of my dad’s temper, but can I walk off on my own for a little while?”

Howie stated, “Uh, no. Sorry, li’l buddy. Ah agree with the Chief.”

“Yeeeeeah, like, as much as I’d like to, he’s got a point. Why?”

“I… never mind. Actually, yeah. He might be right.” Henry shook his head.

“Is it ’bout Ellie an’ Charles?”

“No. …kinda,” Henry admitted. “I talk to them in the evening, usually, after we get back from work.” _Dave doesn’t have work._ “I just want to, uh… think for a while.”

Howie raised his eyebrows. “Yer wantin’ to visit that prisoner.”

Cool Katie looked at Howie. “Wait, the prisoner?” She turned back to Henry. “You’re seriously trusting another prisoner?”

“N-no!” Henry’s voice got a little high-pitched and he cleared his throat. “No. No, I just…” _Fuck._ “I deliver meals and stuff to him, like everyone else. That’s it.”

Howie eyed him. “Like that Russian guy back when you were a kid.”

“Henry, that nearly got us killed,” Katie pointed out, almost before Howie stopped talking. For the first time in a very long time, her cool, level composure cracked. “Trusting that asshole nearly got us both locked up for life o-or killed.”

“Dave’s not a _Wall_ guard, he’s a _security_ guard. For a museum. Formerly a police officer. Stationed at a jail,” Henry said. “They’re nothing alike. Dave’s a nice guy, anxious but nice. He was nice to me back in Red Mesa, even after I got arrested.”

Cool Katie gave him a firm look. “Like that Wall guard was all nice to you?”

“They’re not the same.”

“They may as well be,” she stated curtly. “Those kinds of people, authority who get captured by criminals like us? They’re _not_ chill just being friends. They don’t like us. If they’re being nice, that’s just because he’s trying to manipulate you.”

“Oh? And he acts like that to you, right?”

“ _I_ never talked to him. He never said anything back. He knew I wasn’t about to help him. But you’re being nice to him.”

“I won’t just sneak him out under everyone’s noses. I learned that the hard way, too,” Henry pointed out, unable to keep a barb from his tone. “But he’s still a human, and he still helped me.”

Howie gave him more of a sympathetic look than Cool Katie. “Henry, Ah know ya feel fer the guy, but it ain’t a good idea. Even if ya don’t wanna let him go, what kinda future are ya talkin’ about? Jus’ get ta know him ta what end? What if the Chief wants ta execute him? What’ll ya do then?”

“…try to talk him out of it,” Henry admitted. “But that’s all. I’m just talking to him. He’d have gone crazy a while ago if there wasn’t anyone there for him, you know that.”

“Ya’ve got a real soft spot for authority. That ain’t a good thing.”

Cool Katie nodded. “I know you have friends in the military. We all know. That’s just going to be trouble in the future. But Dave’s trouble here and now.”

“He’s not _trouble_ ,” Henry crossed. “Look at me, Katie. I’m not even leaving this ship for at _least_ a month. And I’m not allowed to handle any keys to the cells. What am I going to do?”

Cool Katie did not answer, but Howie did. “An’ if an’one finds out? Somethin’ could happen ta Dave. If someone really wanted ta hurt ya, they’d hurt Dave or, worse, help him escape.” When Henry gave him an odd look, Howie explained, “Yer parents would automatically assume it was you, jus’ like the rest a’ the ship. Ya grew up here with us, just like Katie and I. But that just means people’d figure you’d give in one day an’ help him out. Then what would happen? Would an’one trust you in a raid or heist that had potential government or police intervention? If no one could trust ya on somethin’ as vital as a heist, an’ ya very well know that negotiations aren’t yer forte, yer presence would jus’ be fuel to accuse the Chief of bein’ bias, which he is. People’ve been expelled from the Clan for bein’ useless. Terrence was thrown overboard fer bein’ incompetent and endangerin’ people.”

“I’m not Terrence,” Henry snapped. “I’d never endanger the Clan, you guys are my family. This place is my home!”

“An’ if it was a choice between yer home and your friends outside?” Howie prompted. “Charles is a government pilot. If he was carryin’ someone who was a real danger to the Clan, if he became a threat, what’d you do?”

Henry… had no response to this fear he had been trying desperately to ignore for years.

“Li’l buddy, Ah love ya.” Howie’s voice grew soft and he uncrossed his arms so he could set a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “We all do. But there are jus’ some things that ya shouldn’t be doin’.”

Henry looked away. He knew Howie was right. He knew Howie and Cool Katie were looking out for him. But to just… ignore Dave because he was afraid of what people would think of him? That was ridiculous. Henry didn’t care what people thought of him before, and he didn’t care now. For the most part.

The young cyborg nodded but didn’t look either of them in the eyes.

* * *

# IRO

It was hardly noon by the time they made it back. Henry, his nice, official pardon with the president’s signature on it in his pocket, walked beside his friend as they left the base.

“So, do you think you’ll be able to visit more often?” Charles asked.

Henry hummed. “Maybe. I mean, I’m not wanted anymore, so probably.”

His pilot friend grinned, an action that never failed to turn up Henry’s own mood. So, maybe he didn’t like spending time at a government base. But he was with his best friend! What could go wrong there? Nothing, that’s what.

…unless his parents found out what he did…

Ah, but that wouldn’t happen.

Probably.

Right?

Yeah.

Definitely.

…hopefully.

“So, what do you think of meeting up with Ellie?” Charles asked.

Henry nodded. “Oh, definitely.” He hesitated. “Do… you know where she is? I haven’t heard from her.”

Charles hummed. “Yep! She’s at another base.”

“Another base?” Henry echoed.

“Yeah.” Charles frowned. “She… she got locked up at the Wall. Buuuuut it was just a misunderstanding. Another General gave my parents and her mom the okay to pick her up.”

Henry let out a quiet sigh. “That’s good. The escaping part.”

“Yeah.” Charles’ smile dimmed.

“…what’s that look?”

“She… well, the Wall isn’t really nice to its prisoners. You know Ellie, she’s a fighter. She took on three armed guards at once during an escape attempt. She got really far, almost made it out. Something got her at the last second. So, she’s kinda banged up. But she got medical treatment.”

A dark look fell over Henry. _Oooooooh, those guys were_ so _dead. To hell with being an inescapable prison, he was finding a way to bring Dmitri down._

“Henry, I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not a good idea,” Charles went on. “You could get hurt or arrested–again! Then what are we going to do?”

“That place was horrible!” Henry pointed out. “Can’t the government do anything about it?”

Charles shook his head. “No, they’re based in another country. Captain says he’s trying, but it’s really hard to get to the Wall.”

Henry let out a quiet laugh, humorless and short. “If he does manage to convince some high-ranking government dude to launch a raid against the Wall or try and shut it down, can I join?”

Charles gave him a small smile. “Sure thing, Henry. You’ll be the first person I recommend for the job!”

“Good thing I have such an awesome friend, huh?” Henry punched him in the shoulder, knocking the man off balance a little. Charles returned the favor, nearly pushing Henry off his feet. Huh. Charles was pretty strong.

Henry’s phone rang.

Henry jumped and immediately picked it up. “Yeah?”

“ _Henry._ ” Dad Reginald’s voice came from the other side. “ _Where are you?_ ”

Henry cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m out with Charles, just, you know, hanging out.”

“ _And what did you do this afternoon?_ ”

“Uh… nothing really…?”

“ _Harold would_ really _like a word with you. Where are you?_ ”

Henry put a hand to his mouth. “Harold? Wh-why?”

“ _Henry, you talked to Wilhelm in the room before. What are you trying to accomplish?_ ”

“Look, Dad, I’d love to talk, but I’m, you know, outside. With Charles. Near the base. Can I call you back later?”

Dad Reginald’s voice calmed dramatically. “ _…alright. Well, call me back when you’re not busy._ ”

Henry hummed, “Goodbye!”

_Click_

Charles raised an eyebrow. “What was that about?” He sucked in his breath. “Oh! Are your parents looking for you? We could get a ride back to wherever they are, if you want!”

Henry shook his head. “No, no. He just… he was worried because he didn’t know where I was. It’s fine. But he knows I’m near the base with you, so I’m safe. You’d never let anything happen to me, right?”

Charles chuckled. “Y-yeah, of course! You’re my friend, Henry! Uh, so, I’m kinda hungry. Do you want to pick something up?”

Henry perked up, the thought automatically sending a pang through his stomach. “Definitely.”

“Great! I know a few good places around here!”

Henry eyed him as they continued down the trail to town. “You aren’t thinking of a Chinese food place, are you?”

“…heh. Maybe.” Charles shook his head. “Oh, I know you’re not a fan. But there’s this _really nice_ Mexican food restaurant close to here. You’d love it!”

“Hmm… close by?”

“Yep!”

“Well then. We were both cooped up in that copter for a while. How about you show me how bad you got, huh?”

“Hey, I didn’t get bad!” Charles immediately rebuked.

“Prove it!” Then, Henry was off in a run.

Charles rushed after him, yelling something Henry didn’t quite hear. Henry didn’t know how long the trail was, so he should probably be tempering his use of energy. After all, he was used to stealth and slow missions with the occasional brief-but-explosive fight. Charles was an ace pilot, trusted heavily in the government. If his training and exercise was anything like Dave described his own training had been like, Henry might be in trouble.

Well, that was if Henry _could_ be in trouble, right?

Henry heard Charles’ footsteps getting closer. He threw a glance back, a shock causing his heart to skip a beat seeing how close the man was. He ran almost beside Henry, focused on the road ahead, his red booted feet stirring up dust. Huh. Good thing Henry never got on Charles’ bad side. If anyone at the prison or museum was even _close_ to Charles’ pace, Henry might not have stood a chance.

Henry could see the buildings of the town poking out from behind the tree line. They were getting close… and Charles was currently ahead of him. If Henry didn’t look out, he’d be beaten at his own game–with a head start, at that!

“Charles!” Henry called. “Someone’s calling you!”

“Huh?” Charles looked back, slowing down a little as he searched the trail. Only after Henry rushed past him did he understand and he yelled back, “Cheater!”

Henry managed to reach the road before Charles, laughing and wheezing, sweat gleaming on his skin. He stopped and nearly keeled over, his hands on his shaky knees. Wow, he wasn’t built for long sprints. Short sprints he could do. Long walks, maybe long jogs? Sure. Climbing through an entire building’s worth of ventilation shafts? He could do that in his sleep. Bolting from one end of the airship to the other, balancing speed with agility as he ran over catwalks and hopped stairs? Absolutely. But a straight, dead sprint from halfway down the trail to the nearest town? He wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually dying.

Charles stopped beside him, his own breaths heavy. Still, he stood with his feet planted into the ground strong and sturdy as ever, one hand on his waist and his eyes, glimmering in excitement, on Henry. “You, Henry, are a cheater.”

“I am!” Henry somehow managed to articulate his thoughts. “And you know it.”

The pilot sat down, leading the thief to do the same. He winced at how heavily he went down on the sidewalk but made no noise to show it. “You know, Henry, if you’re staying around here a little longer, you could come with me to the gym.”

“Gym? Oh, yeah.” Henry managed to get his breathing under relative control. “Yeah, definitely. I do that all the time. Sorta. I used to, but, uh… got a little busy.” _When he was no longer forced to do so by Dad Right, of course, at eighteen. It’s not like he was slacking; carrying an inordinate amount of loot and running from an alarm and security guards was exercise enough, right?_

“Yeah. Busy, huh?”

“Definitely.” Henry cleared his throat.

A few minutes silence spanned between them as Henry regained his breath and energy.

Henry said, “So, how about that food, huh?”

A little over an hour later, Henry stood out in the forest, far enough away from the government camp to not be spied but close enough to walk back. Charles had been a little confused at first but thought nothing more on the subject and offered to let him stay over at his apartment.

Henry hardly had to wait for the phone to ring once before it was picked up. “ _Henry?_ ” answered Dad Reginald.

“Hey, Dad!” Henry hummed, trying for a smile he knew his father couldn’t see. “So, was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“ _You’re a very intelligent young man. Is there a reason you’re playing dumb?_ ”

Henry sighed. “Okay, I know. I know what you’re going to say. But Charles helped me escape the Wall and I had to help him.”

“ _Wait, he did_ what? _What were you doing at the Wall?!_ ”

“Oh, right. I, uh, didn’t tell you that part. Well, you remember that mission I went on in Alaska, right? Things, um, things went South very fast…”

Henry did a brief recap of the story, which honestly wasn’t that long. He got captured, transferred, and broke out, leaving in a helicopter with Charles. “…but Charles couldn’t really _do_ that, on his own, at least. He needed permission. So, the Captain made a deal with him. He’d sanction the pick-up if he could recruit me on a mission. Captain Galeforce told me that if I infiltrated the airship and found a way to bring down the Toppats, he could give me a pardon and we’d break even. But, uh… you know I couldn’t… do that. Right?”

“ _Yes._ ” Henry couldn’t decipher the tone of his father’s voice.

“So, I snuck in, tried to get as little heat as possible, and stole some of the blackmail we give to one of the nastier groups of criminals we happen to trip over. It has our name on the folder, but no solid evidence or proof or whatnot of Toppat intervention or wrongdoings,” Henry continued. “Now I’m staying at the base for a little bit with Charles. People are giving me some foul looks, but I can be out in public again! With Charles! In a _government base!_ Crazy, right?”

…

“ _Henry,_ ” Dad Reginald stated. “ _If you were able to get in a position where your government pilot friend could have helped you, would we have not been able to help?_ ”

“Well, technically you could? Maybe?” Henry relented. “But I remember the _last_ time you guys got in a skirmish with the Wall directly and I didn’t want that happening again. Charles is an ace pilot. He was able to fly in and out in no time! We didn’t risk any Clan members, it was just Charles and I. Since he’s government, they wouldn’t really be able to do anything to him.”

There was a heavy sigh. “ _Henry, I’m so happy you’re alive and free, but this is just… I would rather you not have had a debt to pay to the government in the first place._ ”

“But we’re kinda friends now?” Henry pointed out. “Look, Dad, I love you. I love the Clan. But… I love Charles, too. He’s just amazing. And I know it’s stupid of me, but I want to stay his friend. This plan here, I made sure that I could be with you _and_ him. I didn’t hurt the Clan, didn’t double-cross the government, and now I get to hang out with Charles, and I have a clean record. It’s a win-win situation!”

“ _That is true. Henry, that was a very dangerous plan, but you managed to pull it off. Well done. But if you do it again, I’m not letting you off this airship._ ”

Henry snorted and nodded. “Okay, Dad! I’ll try not to get abducted by the Wall again! Oh, you know, Charles was going to show me around. I was wondering if I could stay here a while longer? I-I know I have a job to do. I have a job planned with Red Crimson, Harry, and Floyd tomorrow evening. But I don’t think I have anything scheduled for today. I mean, yesterday, while I was locked up at the Wall, I think I did.”

“ _If you truly have nothing scheduled for the day, it may be appropriate. But once you get back, you will need to work for the time you lost. Understand?_ ”

“Yes, I do.”

“ _Good. Stay safe, Henry._ ”

“You, too, Dad. Tell Dad Right I said hi!”

_Click_

Henry took a deep breath and put away his phone. Thank _God._ Maybe… maybe things were going his way. Maybe he wouldn’t have to choose between his friends and his family. Maybe they could all live happily. Apart, at conflict, but not in open war.

…what if…

No. He shouldn’t doubt the Toppat Clan. Henry was accepted and loved. He walked around the government base with Charles and got nothing but scorn. Sure, other Toppats didn’t like Dave, but Dave was a prisoner who’d gotten caught in their plans. Henry was a free man who’d helped the government. Someone who helped the Toppats wouldn’t have been so openly despised. His parents were right. Despite all their grandeur and talk of being the best force for the people, they really were conceded and hypocritical.

Well, not Charles, but he was… well, Charles.

Now, about the offer to take him to the gym.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, yeah, I'd never let anything happen to them! ^^;


	39. Storytime!

# CA

Henry was pretty sick of the cold, thank you very much. They stopped at general stores, inns, and bathrooms sometimes for the sole purpose of trying to regain feeling in their fingers. There was a point where Henry received a text asking where they were, which now allowed them to stay in one place–this place being a small shop.

Henry’s phone rang. He answered it in the bathroom. “Hello!”

“ _Henry? Where are you?_ ” Dad Reginald’s voice came out of the receiver.

“Uh… inside one of the shops. Where are you?”

“ _Just outside. Howie should be there to pick you up._ ”

“Oh! Great! Meet you there, then! Thanks, Dad!”

“ _Of course, Henry. Be safe. Please._ ”

“I will.”

_Click._

Henry put away his phone and met Ellie by a shelf of drinks. “Ellie bean! Dad says Howie’s right outside. Come on, we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Henry walked with Ellie outside. Ellie stayed by his side, never following but neither did she lead. At the edge of town, near the cliff overlooking the churning ocean, they could see the massive red airship hovering far above the waves. A black top hat was painted across the upper hull, “Toppat” written in neat, slightly fanciful, maroon letters with a black outline across the hat and spilling over onto the red metal of the airship. Its windows gleamed in the light and giant propellors growled.

Ellie’s eyes went wide. “ _That’s_ the Toppat base?”

“The air division, yep.”

“And you _live_ there?”

“Mhm!”

Ellie smirked and shook her head. “And I thought you lived in New York.”

“I live anywhere Dad Reginald knows we need to go.”

A red pod escaped from the ship and flew to the cliff. The door opened and Howie leaned out. “Hey, Henry! Ellie!”

Henry immediately broke into a brisk jog. “Howie! It’s great to see you again!”

Howie leaned back inside, allowing Henry and Ellie entrance. He shut the door and pressed a few buttons. “It’s been hectic, Ah’ll say that. The _Wall._ Yer gonna give us a heart attack some day, li’l buddy.” He turned to Ellie as the pod took off. “An’ it’s nice to meet ya again! Ah didn’t know the wall took in non-criminals. At least, that’s what Henry told me you were.”

Ellie chuckled. “It seems they do.” She hesitated. “Well… I _did_ steal that car from the Wall. They probably weren’t happy about that. That was only after they tossed my bike off a cliff, so I’m perfectly justified.”

Howie snickered. “Course ya are. Hey, don’t look at me like that! Ah’m the _last_ person ta judge ya for stealin’ a _car._ Ah don’t as much steal, though, as do the footwork when it comes ta meetin’ people. Henry’s the thief.”

Henry grinned. “One of the best pickpockets in the Clan and luckiest.”

“One of the best?” Ellie echoed.

“Eh, Eduardo Gioncarlo joined and he’s a wizard at it,” Henry explained. “He could take everything you’ve ever thought of having on you just by smiling at you. Won’t teach me, though. Maybe he’s actually a wizard.”

Howie nodded. “Yeah, he sought out the Toppat Clan. Not often people do that. Usually, it’s the other way around.” He raised an eyebrow at Henry. “Usually a suggestion made by an elite.”

“I’m getting there,” Henry countered.

The pod stopped moving and the door opened.

Howie said, “Chief said he wanted you both to report to the Bridge once ya came back.”

“Fair,” Henry conceded. He waved his hand and all three of them began their journey from one of the storage spaces near the middle of the ship to the Bridge.

Henry immediately found his parents in the middle of the Bridge, Reginald messing with the controls. Thomas, Oldmin, and Sven were at their stations. Sven was gathering papers like a squirrel readying for winter and stuffing them into an already overstuffed clipboard.

Dad Right perked up upon them entering. Dad Right never failed to account for a newcomer, whether he knew them or not. It was almost weird, though certainly cool. Nothing could break Dad Right’s stride and he couldn’t be defeated, that was that. He was as tough as he was reliable, like the airship! Dad Reginald finished typing and got up to meet them. “Henry! Hello Howie, Ellie. You’re back. How are you? What happened?”

Henry ducked out of Dad Reginald’s grasp when he tried to take Henry and look over him. “I’m _fine._ More than fine! I got captured by the Wall, but I found Ellie and we escaped together. She’s a total badass.”

Ellie smirked and drew herself up. “Well, _someone_ needed to help you, Papa Hen.”

Henry shot her a look, though he could get rid of the grin on his face. He turned back to Dad Reginald. “Anyway, we started a riot and freed _everyone!_ Now, I don’t know how many people were recaptured or killed in the chaos, but Ellie and I managed to make it out. I spotted Cool Joe escaping with a few other prisoners, so we should probably keep an eye out for him and any other Toppats who were captured.”

“Not only did you free yourself with the help of Ellie, but you managed to cause the first widespread riot at the Wall in almost seventy years.” Reginald’s words were more a statement than a question.

Henry nodded with a proud hum. “Not only that, but they can’t touch us. They’re in Canada. We’re American. So, them jailing us without the US’s permission could mean that we could sink them in major trouble. I could ask Charles, and he’s close to Captain Galeforce.”

Chief Reginald threw a glance at Dad Right, who nodded. “We were worried for you, Henry. But it seems I misjudged you. We _will_ need to keep a look out for any escaped Toppats.” He turned to where Sven gathered up the last of the papers. “Svensson!”

Sven looked up and approached him. “Yes, chief?”

“You are meeting with Burt, yes?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Tell him to spread the word to our ground and sea bases, especially those near Canada or any off-shore ports, that we may be accepting some formerly captured Clan members.”

“Uh, sure, Chief.” With that, Sven ran off.

Chief Reginald turned back to the trio. “We did a background check. Ellie, whatever you told Henry was indeed the truth. Knowing your past and your recent aid to Henry, and thus the Clan, we decided to extend an offer to you. We would like to recruit you in return for your loyalty and word to work for the Clan.”

Ellie’s smirk widened and she glanced at Henry. “You know, that sounds pretty cool. Yeah. Sign me up!”

Dad Right stated, “Come with me.” With that, he walked out of the Bridge, Ellie following with a slight shrug.

Dad Reginald turned to Henry and Howie. “Howie, you may follow and aid Ellie.”

“Yes, Chief!”

Henry watched him leave. Dad Reginald went on, “Henry, I need you to join me in a meeting.”

Henry perked up, quick to follow his father. “Er, what meeting?”

“We have some plans for the future of the Clan. I believe your input would be valuable.”

Henry… didn’t reply. Henry _never_ went with Dad Reginald to meetings. He once joined Dad Reginald and Dad Right in a meeting with Mr. Rose when he was twelve, though that was more of a formal dinner than anything else. At least, that Henry remembered. So, this couldn’t be something like… but, it was a meeting about the future of the _Clan?_ The entire Clan?

* * *

# PD

Henry sat at his computer, headphones over his ears, metal fingers tapping the table. God it was so weird having no feeling in his limb but enough sense to use it appropriately.

He was the only one on Discord. Charles was still at work. Ellie hadn’t been online in a few days. Technically, Henry hadn’t been, either. Was she okay? Had she made it out of there? Henry didn’t see Ellie leave, but again, if she went with him, she would have gotten hurt or killed. After all, Henry nearly died.

_Ping!_

Henry perked up. The rose icon was lit up.

Excited, Henry went to her chat.

“Hey, dude! Are you okay?”

Henry blinked. “Eh, yeah. I mean, now I am. Why? What about you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Charles was just freaking out in the chat.”

“How’d you get away?” Henry couldn’t help but ask.

“Do what now?”

“Get away. From the Wall. How’d you do it?”

…

Finally, Ellie said, “How did you know I was locked in the Wall?”

“I saw you. I knocked down the guard, Grigori, and ran down the hall. You didn’t follow me, so I thought you were going to go the opposite direction or something?”

…

…

_…_

“You weren’t there”

“Yeah, I was right next to you! In the suit?”

“That was YOU?”

“Yeah!”

“The hell, man??? You jjst fucking left me?”

Henry sucked in his breath. “No! No, I didn’t! I swear I thought you were going to follow me or go down the opposite hall or something. I knocked out Grigori!”

“Well, I did bust myself out. What happened to you, anyway? You got away from them, obv”

“Well, it’s a funny story.”

_Ping!_

The helicopter icon was lit up.

Henry moved to the group chat.

“Henry??? Ellie??? You back yet?”

Henry replied, “Yeah”

“Finally! I was so worried! ;-; Where were you, Henry?”

“The Wall,” said Henry.

“wut o.o”

“Yeah, so, Henry, how’d you get out/”

Henry stretched his arms. “Weeeeeeeeell, it’s a long story. I bust ed through them, stole a truck, and then fell off a cliff. I pulled the warden, Dmitri, off the cliff and I was able to use a parachute. Didn’t last long and I fell into the ocean.”

…

“._.”

“Holy shit”

“How’d you bust out, Ellie?”

…

“I phoned my mom. :P” Ellie quickly went back, “I mean, shit, I knocked out a couple of guards, stole their keys to open my cuffs, and snagged a small boat. >>”

“lol” Henry rolled his eyes. “Well, glad to see you’re ok”

Charles said, “Yeah, Ellie and I met at the base. ^^ She didn’t tell me you were there! We’d have totally resced you!”

“I didn’t know he was there!”

“I was in disguise,” said Henry. “Or you guys have just never seen my uniform.”

“:o! Yeah, you never come over dressed in a suit and tie or anything.”

“Maybe because I only dress up for work?”

“Tru.”

Elie asked, “Wait. How did you fall into the ocean and survive? Are you sick?”

“No, not sick,” Henry admitted. “I got hurt.” _Hah._ “I’m alive, though.”

“D: Henry, are you okay??? Omg where are you? We can visit. We can do that, right? What happened? Did you get frostbite or something?”

Henry looked at his mechanical arm. “I mean probably? I’m homebound for like a month. Dad doesn’t want me leaving or doing anything.”

Charles typed, “Oh man. Can’t we visit you at your place?”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” Ellie asked.

“Just not a good idea. Please.” Henry gritted his teeth. “Look, I’ll visit you guys later, okay? Just drop it. I’ll tell you when I can leave the house. Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure, man. :( Sorry to hear you’re not doing well.”

“I’m fine.”

Ellie chipped in, “So, Charles, how are you doing?”

Henry shut his laptop hardly feeling any better. Ellie was alive and free, and that was great. But God he hated telling them no. What he would do to be able to go and meet them. That wasn’t a possibility, not right now. Dad Reginald was probably right. He didn’t want to take two months to heal, so take it easy. Uuuugh, taking it easy meant he’d need to stay in one place. Staying in one place: not fun.

He set his headphones down and got up. Well, may as well visit Dave, right? If Howie or Cool Katie had been staking out the Brig, and Henry didn’t show up by now, he doubted they’d still be there. Or maybe they knew him best and would still be there.

Eh, he could go by vent. Or catwalk.

Henry walked along the catwalk above the Brig and then the engine room, where there was a platform someone could occupy. No one was there. Still, Henry did a quiet sweep of the place just to make sure. Once he was satisfied in his knowledge that he was alone, Henry climbed down and walked into the Brig. Dave was laying in his bed, his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

Henry gave the plastic window a little knock. “Hey?”

Dave perked up and raised his head. “Oh, Henry! Hey!” He got to his feet and approached the door. “I haven’t seen you for a while. What happened?”

“Oh, nothing much. I met a few people in Alaska, got captured by the Wall, broke out and almost died, the usual.” Henry shrugged with a flippant wave of his hand.

Dave’s eyes went round as moons. “ _What?_ ”

Henry rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to show off his metal shoulder and arm. “Yep.”

Dave gaped at the new development but said nothing.

“So, you want to go back to my room?”

“U-uh, sure.”

Henry pulled out his copied key and opened the door. It was a short order getting back to Henry’s room. After all, it’s not like they hadn’t walked to his room before.

Henry flopped down on his bed. “I got some extra clothes for you in the bathroom if you want to take a shower or something. Otherwise, just whatever you want, man.”

“Heh. Thanks.”

Henry stuck out his tongue and got up as the shower started running. He winced as the wounds on his back burned a little. Maybe he shouldn’t be getting up and down too much.

Henry bristled upon hearing someone knock on the door. Without thinking, Henry darted into the bathroom and shut the door as quietly as he could. “Shh!” Henry hissed, not looking back.

A pair of footsteps walked into the room. “…Henry?”

Henry shut his eyes. Well, of every voice he could’ve heard on this ship, Howie’s wasn’t the worst. “What the hell, man?” Henry complained, glaring at the door.

“Li’l buddy, get out of there,” Howie stated, his voice flat.

“Howie, I–”

“Ah know you’re not the one taking a shower.” There was a pause. “But if ya are, Ah’m gonna be pissed.”

Henry rested his head against the door and shut his eyes. “Dude, in a few minutes.”

“Dave’s cell is empty.”

Henry’s blood went cold.

“An’ if ya want me ta leave yer room, that’s fine. Ah’ll go straight ta yer parents. Ah ain’t afraid ta do that.”

Henry let out a breath through his teeth. _God dammit, Henry. What have you gotten yourself into this time?_ Henry left the bathroom. The shower had stopped by now. Howie stood in the middle of the room, his arms crossed, and eyes narrowed. Henry flinched.

Henry set a hand to the back of his neck. “Look, Howie, I know how it looks. But, I can explain.”

“Ah don’t know what’s worse,” Howie puffed. “The fact ya went ahead and freed that pris’ner, or ya didn’t check the ventilation system. Don’t be surprised, the vents are yer favorite haunt. Katie jus’ showed me the best places to wait.”

Henry turned a shameful shade of red. “I told you, Howie. It’s not right.”

“It ain’t,” Howie agreed. “Ah know ya know what side yer on. But dammit, Henry, of everything ya could take a likin’ ta doin’!”

Henry stood up straight. “Well, I already told you that I don’t _care_. He’s a person, Howie.”

“Yeah, he’s a person. He’s also a cop. Night guard. Whatever.” Howie turned his gaze to the bathroom door. Before he could walk to it, Henry held out his metal arm to bar the way.

“Howie,” Henry stated. “Come on, he’s not hurting anyone. I’m not hurting anyone. I haven’t told him any Toppat secrets. Nothing I haven’t told my other friends.”

Howie growled and set a hand to his head. “Henry, as yer friend, Ah gotta tell ya that this is a _horrible idea._ Ah already told ya why it was.”

“I heard you. You’re only looking out for me, I _know_. But I can look after myself.”

Howie lowered his hand to look him in the eyes. “…Ah understand. Jus’… be careful, Henry. Yer my little cousin. It’d hurt like hell to lose ya.”

The younger cyborg let out a quiet sigh. “Thanks, Howie.”

Howie gave him a faint, pained smile. It faded rather quickly. “…Good night, li’l buddy.”

“Good night, Howie.”

With that, Howie left, throwing him one last wave. Henry waved back.

Once the door closed, Dave crept out of the bathroom. “Hey, Henry. I’m sorry if I got you in trouble. You’re risking a lot for me.”

“Huh? Oh, don’t be. Howie’s looking out for me. He’d never rat us out.” Henry hummed, turning to him. “So, what’s on for tonight?”

* * *

# IRO

Henry was a little tired to consider going to the gym. So, instead, Charles convinced him to meet some buddies on base. Henry recognized a few freckled faces.

“Henry!” Konrad Bukowski greeted.

“We heard you broke out of prison!” Calvin chipped in.

Henry shrugged with a half-smothered smirk. “I guess my legends are starting to get around.”

“But no more new ones,” Charles pointed out with a stern look. Henry held his hands up before himself. Charles lost the look, favoring a smile, and turned to the other few people with them–a brunette lady who held herself tall and a man as tall as Henry with short black hair. Henry was immediately given a weird look by the new guy. “Henry, this is Liam–” Charles nodded his head to the man. “–and June. Liam and June, this is Henry.”

June brightened. “Ah. So, _you’re_ Henry!”

Liam puffed, smirking. “We thought you were made up for a while.”

June tsked and elbowed him. “Shut up! We did _not!_ You, maybe. But Charles would never make up a friend.”

“Having a criminal as a friend, maybe.”

Henry eyed him, not losing his smile. When Charles had started to look a little indignant, Henry put a hand to his heart. “I prefer the term ‘master thief’… ‘Reformed master thief.’ What are you called, dearest American?”

“ _I_ am a veteran helicopter pilot,” Liam boasted. Out of his line of direct sight, Calvin and Konrad fake-gagged and June shot them a foul look.

Thank God Henry had years to perfect his ability to keep a straight face.

Charles said, “Liam’s pretty good with a helicopter. We sometimes work together in bigger raids.”

Henry grinned. “Really? That’s great! You know, Charles has always been a flier, even before the technical stuff.” He rested his elbow on Charles’ shoulder.

“Well, I mean, I did have to go through aviation school and that was kind of hard,” Charles admitted.

“Charles, ‘grounded’ wasn’t even in your parents’ vocabulary. For way more than one reason.”

“Well, yeah,” Charles bleated.

“He told you guys about the time he managed to save _two_ kids who suddenly developed a severe fear of heights from a tree at the same time, didn’t he?”

June gasped. “No! He didn’t! When was that?”

Henry smirked. “Years ago. Back on my twelfth birthday. Guy climbed up a _four-story-tall tree_ and retrieved Ellie and I both, individually, without so much as a whimper. I wasn’t scared straight of course, so he rescued us a few other times in high school. Like that time you crashed a toy helicopter into a tree.”

Charles chuckled, an uneven noise accompanied by a brighter shade of red on his face. “And you got attacked by squirrels and magpies.”

“Or I stole a helicopter and he landed it back when we were sixteen.”

Liam gave him a flat look. “Now you’re lying. How the hell do you manage that at _sixteen_?”

“Simple. You combine a news broadcast with a firm warning against flying a helicopter, add in a bit of being told how impossible it was, and a sprinkle of a dare, and you got the perfect storm. You know, I flew _in_ a lot of copters, but flying one is way different.”

_Not too different from the airship, but different enough to make it difficult._

Charles rubbed the back of his neck, taking a breath as the heat started to fade from his face. “W-well, I couldn’t let you hurt yourself, and I learned a lot from my parents.”

“And he’s a humble dude.”

June chuckled at this. “Charles is a nice guy.”

Liam interjected with a little cheer, “Like a puppy.” June nodded.

Calvin nodded. “Totally.”

Konrad chipped in, “Yeah, he’s great!”

Henry snorted and then caught how much worse Charles looked. “Him? Charles is a friendliest guy I know, but he packs a punch when he wants to.”

June raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Konrad and Calvin looked at each other. “Dude, we knew you for a while before high school and then in camp.”

Calvin said on his own, “He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body!”

Liam shrugged. “I mean, he is on special missions only. Carting people and sometimes scouting.”

Henry waved his hand with a _pfft._ “Damn, how long have you been around Charles? The badass pilot I know could _mow_ a challenge.” _And cook really good hamburgers. But that wasn’t relevant._ “He–”

Henry’s phone went off. He stepped back and answered it. “Ahhh, hello?”

“ _Henry?_ ” Howie’s voice came from the receiver. “ _Uh, Ah know you’re with Charles, but Ah got a jo–_ ”

“Cousin, I’m a bit busy. I think Katie has our papers.”

“ _Wut_.”

“Katie. She collected the bills.”

“ _…oh, right. Ah’ll ask. Talk to you later._ ”

“Bye!” Henry put away his phone. “Uuuh, hey, Charles, I’ve gotta go. Howie needs my help. He forgot where he put the rent papers, and I think Katie might be out, so I should probably get on that. I should probably be going back to work, anyway.”

Charles blinked. “Oh. Uh, okay. Do you need a ride home?”

“Nah, I got it. Thanks, though!”

He just heard June ask as he left, “Where does he work?”

Charles answered, “He’s in tech support.”

Henry, cursing Howie every step of the way, nearly made it to town before calling again. “Howie?”

“ _Hey, Henry! Ah’m terribly sorry if Ah interrupted somethin’._ ”

“Nah, it’s… it’s fine, I guess.” _Henry could meet up with Charles later. Talk about the puppy thing, too. What was with that?_ “So, what happened?”

“ _Harold came by, asked about ya. Do you have anything planned tonight?_ ”

Henry shut his eyes. _Dammit._ “No, not really. I was just with Charles.”

* * * * *

Sooooo Henry wasn’t all _that_ excited to be going back to the airship. There was the whole Wall thing to talk about and then being all but ransomed by the government. Whacking Harold upside the head and stealing paperwork. He went to go meet with Howie by the cafeteria, as it was almost time for dinner, when he saw Harold down the hall. Henry backtracked. Unfortunately, there was no other straightforward way to get to the cafeteria. He needed to meet Harold and apologize for whacking him upside the head with a stick.

Henry slipped into a vent.

It wasn’t long before Henry was inside the cafeteria, strolling over to where Howie sat. Howie looked up upon noticing his approach. “Henry! Where’ve ya been, buddy?”

“The Wall, back here, a government camp somewhere in the Midwest. The usual,” Henry answered with a nonchalant shrug.

“No.”

“Yep.”

Howie shook his head. “You’re the craziest man Ah know, Henry. What happened? Ya gotta tell me the details.”

Henry held up his hands. “Okay, okay! Now, where to start…? Well, remember that job in Alaska?”

After dinner, Dad Reginald met Henry by one of the exits. “Henry, I need you to join me in a meeting tomorrow afternoon.”

Henry perked up. “Er, what meeting?”

“We have some plans for the future of the Clan. I believe your input would be valuable.”

Henry nodded. Henry _never_ went with Dad Reginald to meetings. He once joined Dad Reginald and Dad Right in a meeting with Mr. Rose when he was twelve, though that was more of a formal dinner than anything else. At least, that Henry remembered. So, this couldn’t be something like… but, it was a meeting about the future of the _Clan?_ The entire Clan?

“Good. Now, this meeting is _very_ important.” He fixed Henry with a very serious stare. “It concerns the future of the Clan–not just us, not even just the Air Division, but future generations of Toppats. So, be prepared appropriately. Understood? You will be representing yourself as well as us.”

“Yes, Dad. Of course.”

“See you then, Henry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Toppats, Ellie! Also, Henry's friendship with Dave is no longer a complete secret! And Charles introduces his friends to Henry! Three different timelines, all the same people. Funny how one decision can make such drastically different paths...


	40. Speak

# CA

In the Board room, Carol, Ahnoldt, and Albert were already there, chatting. Carol was as cool as normal. Henry could hear Ahnodlt clearly, even from across the room. Albert was a little more soft-spoken, but somehow bright even with Carol there. The three sat beside each other, Albert in the middle.

Dad Reginald sat in the middle of the table across from them, an empty seat to his left and two to his right. He gestured to the seat beside what Henry assumed would be Dad Right’s. Henry sat down and looked around them. Carol spotted Henry and then looked at Dad Reginald. “Well, he’s young, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Dad Reginald confirmed. “He is.”

Carol gave him a once over but didn’t speak to him further and instead went back to her conversation. Mr. Macbeth and Sven walked in, Sven clinging to his clipboard and Mr. Macbeth throwing a gruff word at the blonde young man.

Finally, Dad Right arrived, not blinking at eye at Henry’s presence.

“Now,” said Dad Reginald, gaining the attention of those gathered. “I hope I’ve given you the appropriate time to think this plan over. Sven?”

Sven set the clipboard on the table and passed it to Mr. Macbeth, who passed it onto Dad Reginald. Henry craned his neck to look at the papers. He could see the words upon the page, but nothing further.

“The extra defenses for our base in South America have been completed, and the building will be underway. At the rate our construction workers and engineers work, the project _should_ be completed by mid-winter. If all goes to plan, we will be in the air before Christmas.” He flipped through a few pages. “However, a few things should be reiterated.”

Carol prompted, “And how long will it take to get the entire Clan and all of our valuables in one place?”

Mr. Macbeth answered, “We should pull everyone together and prepare a caravan to the Dogobogo Jungle within a few months. By early-to-mid-December, accounting for delays.”

Dad Reginald asked, “How are our emergency defenses, Ahnoldt?”

“Ready to go, Chief,” Ahnoldt announced.

“Our forces?”

“Ready.”

Then, Dad Reginald turned to Henry. “Henry, has Charles told you about any mission he might be going on?”

Henry jolted. “Oh. Well, uh, he normally doesn’t tell me. He’s a veteran pilot, so a lot of what he does is confidential. You know, for citizens like Ellie and I? He’ll tell us if he needs to fly out for a while, though. He’s on special missions only, so maybe if this is something _really_ big, he could? But he told me the Toppats have always been a sore subject, and Captain Galeforce has been struggling to get any general to take his plans seriously concerning us. They technically have nothing to put on a warrant, after all.”

Dad Reginald hummed. “And you are sure he wouldn’t tell you?”

“The Captain doesn’t normally tell _him_ until pretty much the day of,” Henry admitted. “So, he usually just sends a text straight before he flies out. The Captain allowed that after the first time he ‘went missing’ and Ellie and I–we found a way to hound his parents. Since he’s technically fourth generation, now.”

_Henry and Ellie managed to track down Charles on their own, but these guys didn’t need to know that, right?_

Carol stated, “So if the government forces moved in on us, we’ll have a few hour’s notice? A day?”

“Probably,” Henry said. “Charles told me it’s just standard. The Captain knows Charles tells us everything.”

Dad Reginald hummed. “Then we will need to be able to act on a few hours’ notice. If Charles does tell you he’s going on a very important mission, tell me immediately.”

“Okay, Dad.” Henry decided to speak no further. _…maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. Poor Charles. If the government found out Henry had been using Charles for information, they’d probably do something to him. Not to mention Henry would rather do almost anything than take advantage of their friendship._ Almost _anything. If it was a choice between Charles and the Clan after all…_

Henry shook the thought. Henry and Charles had known each other for thirteen years and they’d yet to ever take advantage of each other.

Dad Reginald removed a few papers from the clipboard and spread them out amongst them, even to Henry. Henry sucked in his breath, his eyes going round. On the paper before him was a _rocket._ More specifically, a space station. Little arrows with small writing labeled various parts of the construction. The chief went on, “Now, we have the rough outline of the rocket created as well as the blueprints. But there are still some things that require labeling, some parts that are required to go into motion, and at least one backup plan for the launch itself…”

Henry listened, focusing on Dad Reginald and then every other elite who chimed in or answered questions. Henry didn’t talk very much, other than uttering an agreement of understanding. He _did_ , near the end, ask about the ventilation system and trash chutes.

Dad Reginald asked, “And why would you need to know that?”

“The vents are the easiest places to move,” Henry answered simply. “I escaped prison using the vents. There were a few times where an emergency cropped up and I was able to get from here to the Engine in a few seconds, or from the Bridge to the left storage area past the security room. Now, I don’t know of too many other people who actually use the vent system, especially knowing how flimsy they can be at times. But if someone could get from, say, _this_ hallway on the outer left edge–” Henry pointed to one of the floors below the solar panels. “–all the way to the Vault–” He dragged his finger to the Vault. “–they could get to the Vault and then through the Orion lounge and into some sort of escape vehicle before we could blink twice. I don’t know about any thieves who would _do_ that, and the government doesn’t normally send in a thief to do their dirty work. But wilder things have happened.”

Dad Reginald shook his head. “The vent system is already quite complex, and we have advanced defense systems that could spot and destroy hostile objects before they could get close to the station. Recreating the vent system would just add more time to an already tight schedule.”

 _Eh, he tried._ At least Henry would have a whole new vent system to explore. Due to the size of the station, he could be occupied for months.

* * *

# PD

Henry lay on his stomach in one of the hospital beds, head in his crossed arms. He winced as one of the nurses pulled off the second strip of bandages from his back, allowing the cool air to touch the still rather raw wounds directly. “So,” he asked, keeping his tone casual. “When do–”

“Four and a half weeks.” The nurse cut him off, inspecting the healing wounds on his back and shoulder. “Just a little over a month, if you keep these clean and allow them to heal. My answer is not changing no matter how many times you ask.”

“Okay, okay,” he grumbled. He thought for a moment. “What if I ask half a week from now?”

“I’ll give you something to _actually_ whine about,” she stated, her voice quite stern.

“Aren’t nurses or whatever supposed to be _nice?_ ”

The nurse started replacing the bandages on his back and shoulder. “I’ll make you a deal: you stop being an impatient baby and I’ll be nicer to you.”

Henry scoffed. “I’m not a baby.”

“You men,” she sighed. “Now, how have you acclimated?”

“I can walk and use my arm,” Henry said. “I can type with my left hand, but I need to be watching it and I mess up more. Uuuuh, I can hold stuff. I haven’t fallen and I don’t feel weak anymore.”

She finished her job with the bandages and started scribbling something on a clipboard. “Still having ghost pains?”

“Sometimes.”

“How severe?”

“Eh, nothing I can’t handle. It’s just annoying, really.”

“Okay. Well.” She finished what she was writing and turned her attention back to Henry. “Come back in two days or sooner if the wounds start feeling tender, overly warm, or if you start getting headaches, nausea, a fever. Your cuts _shouldn’t_ get infected–Dr. Vinschpinsilstien is a miracle worker–and I did clean you up well. But there’s always the possibility and an infection will slow down your healing _at best_. Those ghost pains should taper out once your body is completely acclimated with your cybernetics.”

By this point, Henry had already gotten up and thrown on his shirt. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks!”

She hummed and waved her hand before going further into the medical ward.

As Henry walked back out into the halls, he started playing with the cuff of his left sleeve. If he did anything like turn his hand into a sword, he could tear the fabric. He really like this shirt. He also had wings, and those would rip through his shirt and jacket, if he were wearing one. He should probably invest in some way to maybe cut holes in his shirt without making them too obvious. He really liked this shirt, after all. His more expensive, fancy suits he actually wore to work would be absolutely useless if it came to a fight. Not that his suit was a great thing to fight in and not that he didn’t get blood stains on his clothes, but two jagged gashes in the back of his clothes might be a little more difficult to repair than a bullet hole or cut from shrapnel.

Henry heard his phone buzz and took it out. He raised an eyebrow. Normally, his phone didn’t alert him to e-mails. He leaned against the wall and opened it. Oooooh, it was from Dad Reginald, to all people on the ship. A new recruit welcoming ceremony. Tomorrow at 10 AM. Most of the recruits in the Airship Division had been transfers, though they did welcome Winston and Magnus not too long ago. Eh, it was nice welcoming new people to the Clan. A few extra hands never hurt.

“So,” said Henry. “Have you heard who this new guy is?”

Howie shook his head. “Nuh-uh. All Ah know is it’s a girl.”

Katie perked up. “Oooh! Another lady on the ship! I could get used to this.”

Henry chuckled. “Well, we’ll need to introduce you to her first and foremost, huh? Where do you think she’ll go? We could use more people for heists.”

“Personally, Ah’d like to see another person or two in my department. But we’re not exactly achin’ yet.”

Cool Katie shrugged. “Another person to help in the Bay wouldn’t hurt.”

Henry asked, “Isn’t that a rotation job? If it wasn’t for my arm, I’d have been there next week.”

“Some people volunteer, like Benjamin, Matthew, and I.”

Howie piped up, “Speakin’ a’ which, how’s the arm?”

“Doing well!” Henry showed off his hand, flexing his fingers. “It’s taking some time to get used to doing stuff without looking at it. Something about the brain knowing where your body is without looking. The chip in the back of my brain does something about making the body think this is my arm or something like that, I don’t know the science.”

Katie nodded. “I think my mom was talking about something like that. One of my cousins got in a car crash and that was part of the physical therapy, I think.”

The noise of the crowd got louder. In the auditorium, most–if not all–of the Clan was gathered. Henry couldn’t see above the sea of hats–especially tall ones, thanks Thomas and Rhounda–but he knew his parents would be near the front. So that’s exactly where he headed. Some people showed a little annoyance at him, but stopped upon recognizing him, or at least seeing his very unique hat.

“Everyone, I’ll like to welcome our newest member,” Dad Reginald’s voice rang out across the quieting crowd. “She has shown great skill, bravery, and determination.”

Henry managed to get to the front of the crowd. He first spotted Dad Right, holding a pale lavender top hat shaped almost exactly like Henry’s with an indigo rose sewn into the base. Dad Reginald stood next to him. “Ellie Rose, welcome to the Toppat Clan.”

Henry’s eyes went wide as moons. He tipped his body farther forward. Ellie, dressed up in a quaint lavender suit, her fiery red hair brushed back and all the brighter in the concentrated light, knelt on the stage. Dad Right set the hat upon her head. The woman stood up, grinning. Dad Reginald said a few more words and then dispersed the crowd.

Henry climbed up onto the stage. “Ellie?”

Ellie, who’d been greeting Carol, looked at Henry. She gasped, “ _Henry?_ What the hell are _you_ doing here?”

“I live here!” Henry laughed, running up so he could stand beside her.

“What do you _mean_ you live here? You’re a Toppat? How long have you been a Toppat?”

Henry slipped out of her grasp. “Ooooh, thirteen years.”

“Thirteen _years._ You joined as a kid?”

“I was adopted.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Er, your mom wouldn’t have liked that?”

Ellie hummed. “True. Just… you’re here. How are you–is this why you couldn’t leave? Though, that wouldn’t make sense, in hindsight.”

“I got injured, but it’s fine. Come on, Ellie. Welcome to the Clan! This is about you!” He gave her a playful punch in the shoulder, careful to use his right hand. He turned to look back. “Hey, Howie! Katie! This is Ellie, she’s the new recruit!”

Ellie looked past Henry. “Howie? You’re a Toppat, too?”

“Yep!”

Ellie turned to Henry. “Are there any _other_ Toppats I should know about?”

Henry thought for a moment. “…Joan. Joan Scone is a Toppat. She joined about four years ago.”

“Shut. _Up._ ”

“Yep. That’s all, I think.”

“What the _fuck_ , Henry? Is there anything else I should know?”

He grinned. “Well, you’ve already met my parents.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I have? Who?”

Henry tipped his head to Dad Reginald and Dad Right, who were discussing something with Sven and Carol. “My dads.” He lowered his voice. “Technically Carol’s my adopted mother, but don’t mention it to her.”

Ellie put a hand to her head. “Holy shit.”

Howie stepped forward. “Alright, li’l buddy. Let’s give her some breathin’ room. Ellie, it’s nice ta meet ya again! This time as a member of the Clan!” He held out his hand for her to take.

She shook his hand. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, hey. Thanks.” She took a deep breath and calmed herself.

“I’m Katie!” Cool Katie said, replacing Howie when he moved back. “I was raised here, too, but I wasn’t adopted like those two. My mom was a Toppat before I was born.”

“Hey, Katie.”

Henry looked back and smiled. “Hey, Matilda! Hey, Ellie, this is Matilda and the Witch…”

_Wow. Ellie Rose. A Toppat. One of Henry’s greatest friends was now his Clan mate. Was this what the greatest day of one’s life feels like? No more secrets, no more guilt, no more beading around the bushes with Ellie. She could know what he knew, finally._

_…if only Charles could be there, too. But he was government. There was no changing that._

* * *

# IRO

In the Board room, Carol, Ahnoldt, and Albert were already there, chatting. Carol was as cool as normal. Henry could hear Ahnodlt clearly, even from across the room. Albert was a little more soft-spoken, but somehow bright even with Carol there. The three sat beside each other, Albert in the middle.

Dad Reginald sat in the middle of the table across from them, an empty seat to his left and two to his right. He gestured to the seat beside what Henry assumed would be Dad Right’s. Henry sat down and looked around them. Carol spotted Henry and then looked at Dad Reginald. “Well, he’s young, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Dad Reginald confirmed. “He is.”

Carol gave him a once over but didn’t speak to him further and instead went back to her conversation. Mr. Macbeth and Sven walked in, Sven clinging to his clipboard and Mr. Macbeth throwing a gruff word at the blonde young man.

Finally, Dad Right arrived, not blinking at eye at Henry’s presence.

“Now,” said Dad Reginald, gaining the attention of those gathered. “I hope I’ve given you the appropriate time to think this plan over. Sven?”

Sven set the clipboard on the table and passed it to Mr. Macbeth, who passed it onto Dad Reginald. Henry craned his neck to look at the papers. He could see the words upon the page, but nothing further.

“The extra defenses for our base in South America have been completed, and the building will be underway. At the rate our construction workers and engineers work, the project _should_ be completed by mid-winter. If all goes to plan, we will be in the air before Christmas.” He flipped through a few pages. “However, a few things should be reiterated.”

Carol prompted, “And how long will it take to get the entire Clan and all of our valuables in one place?”

Mr. Macbeth answered, “We should pull everyone together and prepare a caravan to the Dogobogo Jungle within a few months. By early-to-mid-December, accounting for delays.”

Dad Reginald asked, “How are our emergency defenses, Ahnoldt?”

“Ready to go, Chief,” Ahnoldt announced.

“Our forces?”

“Ready.”

Then, Dad Reginald turned to Henry. “Henry, has Charles told you about any mission he might be going on?”

Henry jolted. “Oh. Well, uh, he normally doesn’t tell me. He’s a veteran pilot, so a lot of what he does is confidential. You know, for citizens like Ellie and I? He’ll tell us if he needs to fly out for a while, though. He’s on special missions only, so maybe if this is something _really_ big, he could? But he told me the Toppats have always been a sore subject, and General Galeforce has been struggling to get any general to take his plans seriously concerning us. They technically have nothing to put on a warrant, after all.”

Dad Reginald hummed. “And you are sure he wouldn’t tell you? Didn’t you get on the government’s good side?”

“The General doesn’t normally tell _him_ until pretty much the day of,” Henry admitted. “So, he usually just sends a text straight before he flies out. The General allowed that after the first time he ‘went missing’ and Ellie and I–we found a way to hound his parents. Since he’s technically fourth generation, now. And, I’m not as much on their good side as just… not liable to get arrested on sight, anymore.”

_Henry and Ellie managed to track down Charles on their own, but these guys didn’t need to know that, right?_

Carol stated, “So if the government forces moved in on us, we’ll have a few hour’s notice? A day?”

“Probably,” Henry said. “Charles told me it’s just standard. The Captain knows Charles tells us everything.”

Dad Reginald hummed. “Then we will need to be able to act on a few hours’ notice. If Charles does tell you he’s going on a very important mission, tell me immediately.”

“Okay, Dad.” Henry decided to speak no further. _…maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. Poor Charles. If the government found out Henry had been using Charles for information, they’d probably do something to him. Not to mention Henry would rather do almost anything than take advantage of their friendship._ Almost _anything. If it was a choice between Charles and the Clan after all…_

Henry shook the thought. Henry and Charles had known each other for thirteen years and they’d yet to ever take advantage of each other.

Dad Reginald removed a few papers from the clipboard and spread them out amongst them, even to Henry. Henry sucked in his breath, his eyes going round. On the paper before him was a _rocket._ More specifically, a space station. Little arrows with small writing labeled various parts of the construction. The chief went on, “Now, we have the rough outline of the rocket created as well as the blueprints. But there are still some things that require labeling, some parts that are required to go into motion, and at least one backup plan for the launch itself…”

Henry listened, focusing on Dad Reginald and then every other elite who chimed in or answered questions. Henry didn’t talk very much, other than uttering an agreement of understanding. He _did_ , near the end, ask about the ventilation system and trash chutes.

Dad Reginald asked, “And why would you need to know that?”

“The vents are the easiest places to move,” Henry answered simply. “I escaped prison using the vents. There were a few times where an emergency cropped up and I was able to get from here to the Engine in a few seconds, or from the Bridge to the left storage area past the security room. Now, I don’t know of too many other people who actually use the vent system, especially knowing how flimsy they can be at times. But if someone could get from, say, _this_ hallway on the outer left edge–” Henry pointed to one of the floors below the solar panels. “–all the way to the Vault–” He dragged his finger to the Vault. “–they could get to the Vault and then through the Orion lounge and into some sort of escape vehicle before we could blink twice. I don’t know about any thieves who would _do_ that, and the government doesn’t normally send in a thief to do their dirty work, aside from General Galeforce. But wilder things have happened.”

Dad Reginald shook his head. “The vent system is already quite complex, and we have advanced defense systems that could spot and destroy hostile objects before they could get close to the station. Recreating the vent system would just add more time to an already tight schedule.”

 _Eh, he tried._ At least Henry would have a whole new vent system to explore. Due to the size of the station, he could be occupied for months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ellie: "He's a Toppat, she's a Toppat, you're a Toppat--I'm a Toppat! Are there any _other_ Toppats I should know about?!"  
> Joan: "Hey."
> 
> There will be some similar scenes between the stories. Like a meeting scene or maybe a conversation. They're still different, they have different build-ups and different modern histories. But they're there for a reason!


	41. Plan

# CA

Henry left the meeting and went straight to Ellie–after being given the go-ahead from Dad Reginald who told him that the rocket plan was currently very confidential, and not even Howie should be told about it. Henry found Ellie and Howie in the Records room. Ellie looked up at his approach. “Oh, hey H–what happened?”

Howie perked up. “Henry? Is everythin’ alright?”

“Y-yeah!” Henry stuttered. “I’m just… Okay, so, I was just in a meeting.”

Ellie tipped her head. “Is that a big thing?”

Howie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Was it… an important meeting?”

Henry was barely aware he nodded. “Yeah. Dad Reginald took me into a meeting with Carol, Mr. Macbeth, Sven–a whole bunch of elites.”

Howie let out a small gasp. “No.”

“Yes!”

Ellie raised her eyebrows. “Wow. Is that some sort of mentorship program or something?”

Howie shook his head and then hesitated. “Well, sometimes. But in the _real_ big meetin’s, it’s _just_ the elites. The real high up executives. In _smaller_ meetin’s, like talking about new weapons or plannin’ heists, it ain’t uncommon fer an executive to bring along a younger member to show ’em the ropes. They don’t normally participate. Did you?”

Henry nodded. “I got to give my input on a few things.”

“Holy _shit._ ”

Ellie looked between them. “Whoa, wait, wait, wait. Does that mean you’re a high-ranking member, now?”

“Well, I’m a high-ranking member of the field team in the air division. B-but I’m not an elite,” Henry said. “I could only say that for certain if I was promoted, which I haven’t been. With what happened recently, I don’t know about that.”

The gave him incredulous looks. Ellie puffed, “What?”

“Well, I failed to break into a bank vault, got caught, escaped prison–meaning I have a record, now–and then skedaddled back after taking a diamond someone else here had planned out a heist to get already,” Henry explained.

Howie snorted, “And then ya did that stunt at the Wall. Ya haven’t been here longer than two hours and people are already buzzing about getting back some people that have been locked up fer years now.”

Henry shrugged. “Maybe, I guess. It just… feels weird.” His voice lowered a little. “What if… someone starts thinking I’m getting special treatment for being the chief and his right hand’s son?”

Howie prompted, “Do you think they’re treatin’ ya differently? That ya got promoted to the plannin’ team in yer branch because they’re bias.”

“No. No, I think I earned it.”

“That’s yer answer. It’ll do no one any good–least of all yerself–frettin’ about what people _might_ think. People’ll believe anything fer all the wrong reasons and sometimes, there’s not a thing you can do about it.”

Henry smiled a little. “Okay. Yeah that… so. Ellie. You ready to be a Toppat?”

Ellie nodded. “Yep! We’re having the ceremony tonight. I even got a fancy hat picked out. Oh, and I need to go shopping for a snazzy outfit. Are you coming?”

The _first_ thought that came to his mind was “no.” He loved Ellie and all, but _shopping?_ For a _suit?_ For clothes, for that matter, as Ellie would probably be needing new clothes. However, as her best friend and future clan mate and superior, it would probably be a good idea for him to go with her. “Eh, sure. Howie?”

“Ah’ve got stuff Ah gotta be doin’,” he answered at once. “But Ah wish y’all a nice trip. Please don’t get arrested by any more government or cops or the Wall again, would you?”

Henry smirked. “We won’t. Probably. Talk to you later, Howie!”

* * * * * *

Henry… wasn’t as bored as he thought he’d be. Ellie went straight to the point, looking for formal outfits she hadn’t needed to even look at since she left high school and applied for colleges. Henry had changed into something less formal as his better suit was now being dry cleaned. He considered getting a second one and then stopped considering and bought one himself. He’d been very lucky that his suit sustained repairable damage rather than large gashes. But he might not be so lucky next time.

As Ellie stayed in the changing room, Henry stood, idly waiting and watching the store. The occasional shopper passed, but no one paid him any attention. He was lucky to be here, especially with Ellie. Life was weird. But he’d survived it somehow, so far. Not only did he survive it, but he survived with all his family, friends, and limbs intact. Speaking of which, he hadn’t visited Dave for a while. Not that Henry had much of an opportunity to do so, of course. Poor man must be bored out of his mind by now.

Henry shook the weighty thoughts as Ellie strode out of the changing room, new clothes draped over her arm. “What’s next, Papa Hen?”

“Pay for it and hit the road?” Henry suggested. “Or… It’ll be a little late by the time we get back to the airship. How about we go out for dinner first?”

“You know, I could go for some dinner. What do you want?”

“Burgers.”

“You _always_ say that.”

“So, I’m predictable! You?”

“Italian. What do you think?”

“Sure!”

What Italian places did the two know in the United States, in the little city they wandered? Henry knew a little about some authentic restaurants or Mom and Pop ones everyone else enjoyed. The one Ellie suggested was one that Henry, Floyd, Harry, and Sal _tried_ to go to after they finished a mission early. Sal had hissed like an angry rattlesnake until they went somewhere else, mumbling about “Americanized food” and how them even claiming to have a scrap of authenticity was insulting. So, without any real qualms as Henry “had no sense of taste”–a nice description from Sal, Paddy, and hypocritically Blueberry–Henry agreed. He didn’t blame them, as Henry could eat almost anything, but the fact _Blueberry_ said it was a little insulting. No one had ever seen the man eat anything but blueberries!

Well, the food was good, in his humble opinion, as were the breadsticks when soaked in soup. So, ha!

* * *

# PD

“Oh my God, Dave, you’ll never believe who joined the Toppats.”

Henry lounged in his chair while Dave stayed on the other bed, his tablet lying on the bed and charging. Dave brushed some still-damp strands of hair out of his eyes. “Oh?”

“Ellie!” Henry burst out. “My best friend! You remember me talking about her. I’ve known her since middle school!”

Dave raised his eyebrows. “I thought you said she worked with the government.”

Henry shook his head. “No. Well, sort of. She worked _with_ them when they paid her, but she wasn’t affiliated with them. She could work with some normal Joe off the street if they paid her enough for the job.”

The former security guard let out a quiet sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy. She sounds like a great friend.”

“Is she _ever!_ ” Henry hummed and sat forward again. “Do you want to meet her?”

“Is that a good idea?” Dave ventured, his voice going quiet.

“Oh, definitely. She’s my best friend, Dave. I’ve known her long since before she even knew about the Toppats. It’ll be fine.”

“Well, if you think so, then… sure.”

“Sweet! Now, I’m not allowed to do much, but I can still walk. Do you want to go out onto the balcony?”

* * * * *

“Henry.”

Henry turned to Dad Reginald as they left the cafeteria. “Yes, Dad?”

“I need you to come with us to a meeting,” Dad Reginald stated.

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, okay. When?”

“This afternoon; three. Meet us in the Board Room. Is that an appropriate time?”

“Y-yeah! Yeah, of course,” said Henry. “I don’t have anything at three.”

“Good. Now, this meeting is _very_ important.” He fixed Henry with a very serious stare. “It concerns the future of the Clan–not just us, not even just the Air Division, but future generations of Toppats. So, be prepared appropriately. Understood? You will be representing yourself as well as us.”

“Yes, Dad. Of course.”

“See you then, Henry.”

Henry slowed down, watching his dads make their way to the Bridge. Henry turned and walked in the opposite direction. His morning schedule consisted of helping at the Bay, and his afternoon fell to meetings both planning and revising already made plans for heists. But there was nothing scheduled for three. Except maybe to hang out with Howie during their mutual break. But life happens, and Howie knew Henry was busier than him.

So, at about two, Henry was tired of labelling and rechecking organization–though he’d much rather unload the shipments, honestly, that wasn’t going to happen without the doctor’s go-ahead–to the exhaustion of going to three meetings in a row for smaller heists. A quick sponge bath helped energize him. He couldn’t take a real shower lest he mess with the bandages. He put on his suit and hat and started out the door of his bedroom. Though, as he reached out to open the door, he looked at his hand, his left one. It gleamed in the light, even after being dried off. He plucked a pair of navy-blue gloves off his desk and put them on as he walked down the hall.

Henry paused outside the door to the Board Room and fiddled with his hat and suit for the twentieth time. _Important meeting. With Dad Reginald._ With a deep breath, Henry pushed the door open and walked inside the Board Room.

In the Board room, Dad Reginald, Dad Right, Carol, Ahnoldt, and Albert were already there, chatting. Carol was as cool as normal. Henry could hear Ahnodlt clearly, even from across the room. Albert was a little more soft-spoken, but somehow bright even with Carol there. The three sat beside each other, Albert in the middle.

Dad Reginald sat in the middle of the table across from them, an empty seat to his left with Dad Right at his right, another empty seat beside the man. As he was talking with Dad Right, he caught sight of Henry fairly quickly. He gestured to the empty seat beside Dad Right. Henry sat down and looked around them. Carol spotted Henry and then looked at Dad Reginald. “Well, he’s young, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Dad Reginald confirmed. “He is.”

Carol gave him a once over but didn’t speak to him further and instead went back to her conversation. Mr. Macbeth and Sven walked in, Sven clinging to his clipboard and Mr. Macbeth throwing a gruff word at the blonde young man. Sven had a double-take upon seeing Henry, but said nothing, staying beside Mr. Macbeth on Dad Reginald’s left.

“Now,” said Dad Reginald, gaining the attention of those gathered. “I hope I’ve given you the appropriate time to think this plan over. Sven?”

Sven set the clipboard on the table and passed it to Mr. Macbeth, who passed it on the Dad Reginald. Henry craned his neck to look at the papers. He could see the words upon the page, but nothing further.

“The building is underway in South America. At the rate our construction workers and engineers work, the project _should_ be completed by mid-winter. If all goes to plan, we will be in the air before Christmas.” He flipped through a few pages. “However, a few things should be reiterated.”

Carol prompted, “And how much longer until we are able to draw our other divisions and wealth to South America?”

Mr. Macbeth answered, “We should pull everyone together and prepare a caravan to the Dogobogo Jungle within a few months. Most of the railroad tracks are already plotted and cleaned out. Our caravans are partially complete and most of our forces are almost, if not already, at the meeting points. By early-to-mid-December, accounting for delays, everything should be in place.”

Dad Reginald asked, “How are our emergency defenses, Ahnoldt?”

“Ready to go, Chief,” Ahnoldt announced.

“Our forces?”

“Ready.”

Then, Dad Reginald turned to Henry. “Henry, has Charles told you about any mission he might be going on?”

Henry jolted. “Oh. Well, uh, he normally doesn’t tell me. He’s a veteran pilot, so a lot of what he does is confidential. You know, for citizens like Ellie and I. He’ll tell us if he needs to fly out for a while, though. He’s on special missions only, so maybe if this is something _really_ big, he could? But he told me the Toppats have always been a sore subject, and Captain Galeforce has been struggling to get any big authority to take his plans seriously concerning us. They technically have nothing to put on a warrant, after all.”

Dad Reginald hummed. “And you are sure he wouldn’t tell you?”

“The Captain doesn’t normally tell _him_ until pretty much the day of,” Henry admitted. “So, he usually just sends a text straight before he flies out. The Captain allowed that after the first time he ‘went missing’ and Ellie and I–we found a way to hound his parents. Since he’s technically fourth generation, now.”

_Henry and Ellie managed to track down Charles, but these guys didn’t need to know that, right?_

Carol said, “So if the government forces moved in on us, we’ll have a few hours’ notice? A day?”

“Probably,” Henry said. “Charles told me it’s just standard procedure–at the very least for him, since the Captain knows Charles tells Ellie and I everything. Currently, Charles is stationed in… the northeast, I think. A few hours away from New York City. So, if something huge was going on in South America, he’d need a few days to fly and set up. Again, since he’s very close to the Captain and an ace pilot, I doubt Captain Galeforce would want to start before he arrived. Especially if it’s concerning us. Captain Galeforce is very focused on the Air Division.” _If they took out the chief, the rest of the Toppats should be easy._

Dad Reginald hummed. “Then we will need to be able to act on a few hours’ notice. If Charles does tell you he’s going on a very important mission, tell me immediately.”

“Okay, Dad.” Henry decided to speak no further. _…maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut. Poor Charles. If the government found out Henry had been using Charles for information, they’d probably do something to him. Not to mention Henry would rather do almost anything than take advantage of their friendship._ Almost _anything. If it was a choice between Charles and the Clan after all…_

Henry shook the thought. Henry and Charles had known each other for thirteen years and they’d yet to ever take advantage of each other.

Dad Reginald removed a few papers from the clipboard and spread them out amongst them, even to Henry. Henry sucked in his breath, his eyes going round. On the paper before him was a _rocket._ More specifically, a space station. Little arrows with small writing labeled various parts of the construction. Quite a lot of the station had been filled in. Another paper was an aerial view of the Toppat base in the Dogobogo jungle. The chief went on, “Now, we have the rough outline of the rocket created as well as the blueprints. But there are still some things that require labeling, some parts that are required to go into motion, and we need to look over the backup plan for our launch at least one more time…”

Henry listened, focusing on Dad Reginald and then every other elite who chimed in or answered questions. Henry didn’t talk very much, other than uttering an agreement of understanding. He _did_ , near the end, ask about the ventilation system and trash chutes.

Dad Reginald asked, “And why would you need to know that?”

“The vents are the easiest places to move,” Henry answered simply. “I escaped prison using the vents. There were a few times where an emergency cropped up and I was able to get from here to the Engine in a few seconds, or from the Bridge to the left storage area past the security room. Now, I don’t know of too many other people who actually use the vent system, especially knowing how flimsy they can be at times. But if someone could get from, say, _this_ hallway on the outer left edge–” Henry pointed to one of the floors below the solar panels. “–all the way to the Vault–” He dragged his finger to the Vault. “–they could get to the Vault and then through the Orion lounge and into some sort of escape vehicle before we could blink twice. I don’t know about any thieves who would–or _could_ – _do_ that, and the government doesn’t normally send in a thief to do their dirty work. But wilder things have happened.”

Dad Reginald shook his head. “The vent system is already quite complex, and we have advanced defense systems that could spot and destroy hostile objects before they could get close to the station. Recreating the vent system would just add more time to an already tight schedule.”

 _Eh, he tried._ At least Henry would have a whole new vent system to explore. Due to the size of the station, he could be occupied for months.

Though, he probably had a lot _more_ to do if they were in space. _Space!_

* * *

# IRO

Henry sat behind his laptop, headphones on and the front two legs of his chair off the ground. It had been a few months since Henry had come back, and all was looking well. Even better now that Henry had the ability to visit Charles and Ellie more often. The helicopter icon lit up. Henry fell forward again to concentrate on his computer.

“Hey! :D Just got back from work. How about you guys?”

The rose icon lit up. “Finally got out of bed. :P Gave the doctor an aneurism when I went to the gym.”

“Ellie! D: You need to be careful! You got really hurt.”

“Duh, I was there, I know how hurt I got. Besides, I wasn’t doing any heavy work.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Was it that bad?”

“Meh. I tried to escape the Wall. Got a few fractured ribs and a sprained ankle. Some bleeding something-or-other and a bullet wound in the chest. Then I got frostbite because I made it out and fell into the ocean. Just a normal day’s work. Don’t’ know wy it’s taking so long to hea.”

“Man, Ellie. :( Why did you go to the gym THAT hurt??”

Henry asked, “Ellie, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I know my limits, guys. I don’t’ need you two breathing down my neck, either.”

“Ellie, we’re your best friends. <3 You always take it too hard.”

Henry shrugged. “Pretty much. You reinvented the term ‘all or nothing’ you know.”

“I know, I know. Hey, so, doc said if I stay down a few more days, I can use my foot again good as new. So, how about a good old friend reunion?”

“Oh! That’s awesome!!! Yeah, I love that idea!!! Henry, did you go back to New York?”

“No, I’m still in the area,” Henry reassured him. “Yeah, I’d love to meet up.”

“Sweet!” typed Ellie. “You’re still in Missouri right?”

“Yep! <3”

“Nice! I’ll see if I can make it over there.”

“Cool! I’ll clean up and cook something up!! :D”

“I’ll scrounge up something to play.”

“Me, too. Howie, Katie, and I haven’t played cards in forever.”

Ellie said, “Oooh! Practice on us and then show em who’s boss when you get back?”

“You’ve read my mind, Ellie.”

“BTW, are you bringing Monopoly, Ellie?”

“After last time???” There was a pause. “Sure.”

Henry lay on his bed, tossing a ball up and then catching it again. Dave, wearing his security guard cap, paced. Henry sighed, caught the ball, and tipped his head to the side. “What’s the problem, Dave?”

Dave stopped and glanced at Henry, but soon continued his pacing. “Yeah, um, a few things. Henry, are you okay?”

Henry tipped his head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I found some expired medicine behind your mirror, in the bathroom,” Dave explained.

Henry raised his eyebrows. “Why were you looking in the medicine cabinet?”

“Sorry, I just got curious. I didn’t know you had a medicine cabinet, honestly,” said Dave, his voice wavering and lowering further.

Henry waved off the question. “Sleeping medicine. When I was eleven, I got kidnapped by one of the prisoners. Had really bad nightmares, so the doctor prescribed some really light sleeping medicine. I haven’t taken it since I was in middle school, even then I hated medicine, so it was pretty rare.” He snorted. “I forgot it existed, actually. I thought about throwing it away, but memories, or something? Anyway, what else? Something looks like it’s bothering you.”

“Oh. Okay. It’s just… Henry. You remember being at Red Mesa Penitentiary, right? All the hoops you went through before then as well?”

“Hard to forget, yeah.”

“Through it all, you knew what was happening. They–we–told you. We told you what was happening and what was going to happen and what you were going to do,” Dave went on.

Henry let out a quiet huff. “Yep. Sure did.”

“I know that was bad, and you didn’t like it,” Dave went on. “But there was a certainty. You knew your sentence. You knew what was going to happen after. You knew that we would kick you out after, right?”

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed and he sat up. “Yeah.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” Dave said finally, stopping his pacing. “I don’t understand what my sentence is, when I’m going to finish it, if I do or if one exists, what will happen after. _Is_ there going to be an ‘after,’ Henry? Or am I just here indefinitely? Do your parents want me here or did they just forget? Was I supposed to be here for a certain time, or until I did a certain thing or until _they_ did a certain thing? The museum’s _gone_ , reduced to rubble. They haven’t rebuilt yet. Dozens of people were laid off because they no longer had a place to work. The Tunisian Diamond is already gone.” He gestured to the shiny gem sitting near Henry’s computer. “I already told anyone who asked everything I know. So that can’t be it. It’s been _months_ , they think I’m _dead_ by now. They have to. So what use am I here?”

Henry sat up completely. “I don’t know, Dave. The last prisoner we had kidnapped me and escaped. I mean, you could do the same thing, probably. Otherwise, I don’t know.”

Dave set a hand to his arm. “Henry. I know that you’ve done a lot for me, and it’s unfair of me to ask. But _please._ I need to know what happens next. Even if they plan to kill me, I just need to know. I need to know what to do, what I did or could do or anything to just… not be in the dark.”

“I’ll try,” Henry said, his voice a little slow. “But they don’t trust me after what happened last time. I mean, I was a kid, but half my friend group are authority or work for them.”

Dave nodded, staring in the direction of the wall opposite. “Okay. I understand. I just… need that certainty. I could do it myself, but it would be pretty hard.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just…” Dave took a deep breath and turned back to Henry. “Nothing. Just trying to think. You know? Was… was there something you wanted to do or something tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the class I took, we had to evaluate a paper. This particular paper was written about Olive Garden and how Americanized it is/how people who know genuine Italian food versus those who don't feel about Olive Garden.
> 
> Oh and here's that meeting from the last chapter.
> 
> Aso, the "last chapter" is being posted on Friday, but the polls will end Monday, December 21st, 2020 at 12:00 PM CST/6:00 PM GMT.


	42. Dinner

# CA

“Things are going crazy, huh?” Ellie prompted, spearing a bit of lasagna on her otherwise empty plate with a fork.

Henry nodded, pulling the last little shrimp from the remainders of his alfredo. “Things are different.”

“A year ago, Henry.” Ellie turned her gaze to him completely. “A year ago, I was sitting in my apartment in Florida struggling to come up with a plan to pay rent. Now I’m _here_ with you.”

“Life’s crazy.” Henry’s smile faded a little. “Were things really that bad?”

Ellie shrugged. “Nah. I mean, I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t get that many jobs because I’m not some old guy from the police or military or something. But when I did get a job, I get paid _well._ But something tells me this is going to have a little more job security.”

“Stick with us and we’ll stick with you,” Henry hummed, grinning.

Ellie asked, “Henry, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“About that meeting you went to,” Ellie said. “I know I shouldn’t ask, and you shouldn’t tell me, _but_ does it have anything to do with the government?”

Henry shook his head. “No. No one’s planning a giant attack or anything. Why?”

Ellie chuckled. “I thought it would be ironic the day after I joined you something happened to Charles, or something is all.”

“Hah! Nah, I wouldn’t let that happen. Ellie Bean, you and Charles have been my friends since middle school. I won’t let something dumb like _differences in opinion_ come between us.”

“Oh, it’s the government’s _opinion_ you should be stopped?”

“Yep!” Henry grinned proudly at his joke, all the happier upon hearing her laughter. _God things have been going well, please don’t throw a wrench in it_. “Hey, so, it’ll be late when we get back. Was there anything you wanted to do…?”

“You could show me around the ship,” Ellie suggested. “Oh! Or meet up with the rest of your friends.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “You already met Howie and Katie, they’re my closest friends on the ship.”

“Yeah, but I _thiiiiink_ there’s someone else,” Ellie claimed, her smile turning into a mischievous grin.

“I-I don’t–?”

“Heeeeeeenry.”

“Ellie…”

“It’s Dave, isn’t it?”

Henry’s eyes widened. “What? What would make you think that?”

“I’m psychic.”

“Ellie.”

“Howie showed me a few places on the ship, including the Brig. I remember Dave.”

Henry blinked. “You… what?”

“Yeah, Panpa. He was the new guy at the museum,” Ellie informed him. “You remember my cousin, Jacob, right? He works there, too. After you went missing, I chatted with him for a while. Dave was a new guy, former police or something, worked at the same place you were in. Yeah, Jacob’s partner said that he was a truck driver but quit after a certain incident. After the museum collapsed, a few people went missing. All but Dave were eventually accounted for.”

Henry thought for a moment. “And what does that have to do with me being friends with him?”

“Oh, nothing. I just knew you’d tell me if I accused you,” Ellie informed him with a chuckle. “You are so predictable, Papa Hen.”

Henry sighed. “Okay, okay. Yeah, I do drop by and say hello to Dave. But… does Howie know?”

Ellie shook her head. “Nope.”

“Did you ask?”

“Yeah.”

“Why!?”

“That’s how you get information!” Ellie defended and shrugged. “But, I don’t think he was onto you or anything. You never mention him. Why don’t you take me to meet him?”

“I mean, you can meet him, can’t you? He’s a person…”

“Be a _gentleman._ Introduce me to your friend~!”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “And you’re a _lady_ now?”

“Yes.”

The lights outside were off as night had fallen over them. Henry left his room and strolled down the hall. Ellie met him at the end. Her greeting was cut off by a yawn. Henry nudged her and made his way to the Brig.

Henry knocked on the plastic window of Dave’s cell. “Hey, Dave?”

“Henry!” Dave’s voice came in immediate answer. “I haven’t seen you for a while! How’ve you been?”

Henry unlocked the door and stepped aside. “Been busy. You know, staying alive, making plans. Dave, meet Ellie! Ellie, Dave!”

Dave looked between the two, his usual cheer gone and dark eyes flicking back and forth. Ellie smiled, a soft gesture that nearly disarmed Henry. “You’re Dave, then? My cousin told me about you. Jacob. Do you remember Jacob Rose? From the museum?”

Dave squinted at her. Then, his caution ebbed, and he nodded. “Yeah, Jacob was new, too. He was hired about the same time as I was. So, you’re his mercenary cousin?”

“Yep! Ellie Rose. Nice to mee you, Dave!” She held out her hand.

Dave stepped out of his cell and took it. “Thanks, Ellie. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Ellie grinned. “Let’s go explore the ship while no one’s awake!”

“A-actually!” Henry dove back into the conversation. “Let’s go to my room first for a minute or two? What do you think of a walk around the ship, Dave?”

Dave followed them back. “I would be okay with that, yeah.”

“Good. Your hat’s still in my closet.”

* * *

# PD

“So, what’s up? With your _maybe frostbite_ or something?”

Henry, who’d been pawing at the dwindling amount of alfredo, jolted. “What?” He and Ellie had gone out clothes shopping for her new work outfit and some street clothes after Henry’s meeting. After quite a bit of time outside, they’d stopped by an Italian food restaurant.

Ellie jabbed her fork in his direction. “I _mean_ , you said you got hurt. But you wouldn’t tell us what happened. What was with the ‘probably frostbite’ thing?”

Henry hummed and shifted in his seat. “I… got hurt leaving the Wall, yeah. You remember the Warden?”

“Mhm.”

“You remember I was with you, right? For a little while? What I did?”

Hesitantly, Ellie nodded. She sucked in her breath. “Did you get shot?”

“No! Er, actually, maybe,” Henry said, his voice slowing down a little. He shook his head. “Okay, so, I didn’t get shot in the beginning, I was too good at running.” He let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. Ellie didn’t laugh or even smile. Instead, she watched him with soft eyes, her hands crossed on the table. Henry recalled the event that, though exhilarating at the time, lost its thrill with the weeks of healing and his new limb. “…and I got to take Dmitri down with me, but I didn’t exactly escape unscathed. I fell into the ocean. From the air above the cliff.”

Ellie’s eyes went wide. “You _what?_ How did you survive that?”

“I mean, I technically didn’t,” Henry admitted. “I died, at least that’s what Dr. V said. She said I was gone but she brought me back.” He took off his left glove. As his left side faced the wall, it was hidden from view from the outside.

Ellie blinked. “Did she…?”

“Replace my arm? Yeah. Part of my shoulder as well as my spine,” Henry stated. He turned over his hand, showing off the blue bulb inlay into his palm. “It’s called _‘cybernetic augmentation.’_ ”

Ellie reached toward his hand and hesitated, looking up at him. Henry shrugged and held out his hand for her to inspect. “What did she mean by that? Cybernetic augmentation?”

“It means I can do… other stuff. I’ll show you when we’re outside.”

Ellie set his hand down again. Henry put his glove back on and fixed the cuff of his suit.

There was a device on their table, a kiosk, that allowed Henry to pay for their meal. Though Ellie tried, Henry pointed out that she really couldn’t as she’d forgotten her wallet. Smug, he paid for their meal and, as they got up, tossed her wallet back to her. He didn’t escape without injury as she punched his arm–the right one, not made of metal. He ducked his head and rubbed his forearm with an uneven chuckle.

Ellie asked as they strolled into the parking lot, “Is that why your old man didn’t want you going outside?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re out here, now.”

“Going shopping,” Henry pointed out. “I probably can’t hurt myself going clothes shopping.”

“That’s what he thinks!”

“And he’ll keep thinking that or I won’t ever step foot off the ship again!”

Ellie looked at his arm. “So, what _did_ you mean by ‘cybernetic augmentation?’”

Henry took off his glove. They stopped walking near the edge of the parking lot, where a red car sat. He held up his left arm. It lengthened and thinned, sharpening into a rapier.

Ellie gasped. “You can turn your hand into a _sword?_ ”

“Among other things.” Henry’s hand changed into a baseball bat and then shrunk back into a hand. He showed off the palm of his hand and pointed down. A short laser blast scorched the ground. Henry perked up. “I don’t know exactly how much else I can do. I know I can fly, but everything else is just… figuring it out.”

“You can _fly?_ ”

“Yep! I’ve never done it before, though,” Henry answered. “I have jet wings attached to my spine, but I’ve never used them.”

“Why not? Isn’t that the sort of thing that’s you’d _always_ use?”

Henry chuckled and put his glove back on. “Well, not when you’re on an airship all day. Also, the doctor said I needed to be careful while the skin on my back heals.”

Ellie nodded. “Well, if you hurt yourself, I don’t know how to fix you. So, we should probably just head back, then.”

“Yeah, I like that plan.”

* * * * *

Henry lay down on his bed, eyes closed and his metal arm over his chest. A cord ran from his shoulder to a plug strip sitting snuggly on the wall at the foot of his bed. He didn’t quite know how long he would have to stay there, but the light on the head of the cord would go from yellow to green when it was finished.

The former security guard sat down next to him. Henry opened his eyes and looked up. “Huh? Hey, Dave.”

“Hey.” The man’s eyes were drawn to the cord on Henry’s arm. “Are… you okay? Still hurting?”

Henry shook his head. “I’m good. I don’t even feel this cord thing. Then again, I don’t feel my arm.”

“How… how long will you need to stay like this?”

Henry shrugged with one shoulder, the other being deactivated like his arm, and made a noncommittal noise. “This is kinda new to me, you know? But I guess I’ll find out. Doc wants me to recharge it tonight to full and meet him in the morning. Soooo, I’m kinda useless at the moment. Sorry we couldn’t go out to the gym or out on one of the porches.”

“Oh, no, it-it’s fine,” Dave reassured him, his eyes meeting Henry’s. “You’ve been really nice to me, you know? I know you’re hurt, so take as long as you need.”

“Heh. You’re a good guy, Dave. Blegh. Just wish I didn’t _need_ to do this. Like, why can’t I just eat a bigger breakfast or something?”

“Because you’re part metal, now?” Dave suggested.

Henry stuck his tongue out. “Honestly, as cool as this is, I’d… I kinda liked my old body. You know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get that.”

…

Dave went on, “Is there… is there anything I can do?”

Henry chuckled. “Well, aside from somehow making my arm and spine need food as fuel instead of electricity, not much.”

The former security guard nodded. “Okay. …well, how about some NewTube? Watch videos until you can move again?”

“I like that idea! Could you grab my phone from my desk?”

“Sure!” Dave retrieved the expensive piece of totally legitimately claimed technology–which, it actually was since Henry bought it even if the money was not legitimately claimed–and lay down next to Henry. As the cyborg was having a rather difficult time attempting to navigate the phone with one hand, Dave offered to take it and then went on the search for content they both enjoyed. Turns out, they both enjoyed Between Us. Dave didn’t have a phone, so they couldn’t play together, but they could watch other people play.

When Dave’s arms got tired, Henry set the phone on his chest, moving his left arm to prop up the phone.

Henry didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he did. He jolted awake upon hearing his phone’s quiet, yet insistent beeping. He tried to turn it off with his left arm, only to remember it wasn’t working. When he tried to move his right arm, he found it pinned. Dave used his arm as a pillow, and pressed himself up against Henry, Dave’s knee on his, a hand tentatively laid on Henry’s chest, sound asleep.

The alarm turned itself off after a minute.

Henry had long since stopped caring.

In fact, Henry had momentarily lost his ability to think. Dave was sleeping on him. They’d fallen asleep together. On his bed. Watching videos. Cuddling. What. What was happening.

After he managed to somehow pull his mind out of the Void, he looked at Dave. God, he was so… peaceful. Relaxed. Not at all the jumpy guy Henry knew. He knew, logically, Dave was supposed to go back to his cell. If someone delivered his breakfast to him in the morning and he wasn’t there, an alarm would immediately be raised. However… Henry was set to bring him breakfast tomorrow. He knew because he’d always counted the days. He had more of them after promising to cover other people’s duties. No one complained; Brig duty was menial work.

Anyway, since tomorrow was Henry’s turn to bring him breakfast, potentially, Dave could stay here the night. He’d need to don a disguise for the short time it took to get back to his cell, and they would need to get up right before the security cameras changed hands. There was a short window of time when he and the last guard would talk before they parted ways. Then they needed to go at a time when everyone was already, or before anyone was, in the cafeteria as to not cross paths with anyone.

…eeeeeeh, seven will do. Thankfully, he already had an alarm set for seven. Breakfast was at eight, but he liked to give himself time to wake up.

Henry glanced at his arm. The light was still yellow. Oh well.

Henry’s dreams were broken as reality squirmed its way into his brain. He let out a tired groan and shifted his weight a little. His arm was a little sore, now. But whatever pressure that had been on it was gone. The hand on his chest, just below his own metal one, was gone as well.

Now, Henry decided to open his eyes. God, it was before his alarm was supposed to go off. Whyyyyyy?

Oh, wait. That’s why.

Henry looked over to find Dave pacing around the small room. “Oh. Hey, Dave. Morning.” He bit his hand to keep from yawning but yawned anyway.

“Good-good morning, Henry,” Dave returned, his voice gaining a higher pitch. “Uhm, I should have been back at my cell by now. Someone’s going to-to find out I’m missing. They’ll blame you, because you did do it, and then you’ll get in trouble and something will happen to me. They might kill me or something, I-I don’t know–”

Henry set his phone down and pulled himself up. “Whoa, wait, wait!” Dave stopped talking. “It’s fine. It’s my turn to take care of you today. No one’s going to be nosing around in the Brig if they don’t have to.”

Dave nodded and swallowed, though he hadn’t relaxed in the slightest. “Thank you, Henry. That’s good. But, I just… what would happen if anyone but your friend found out?”

Henry shrugged, again with just one shoulder. “They’d be pissed, probably. But, hey, that _won’t_ happen.”

Dave… relaxed a little at that.

Henry turned back to his arm. The little plug now had a green light. “Finally! God, that took forever,” he puffed and unplugged his arm. He messed with a panel under the topmost plate on his shoulder. _Now_ he could move his arm and flex his fingers. He pulled himself out of bed. “Come on, then. If you’re really worried, I can take you back.” He glanced at his phone. “…eh, right now’s fine. No one’s leaving for the cafeteria, so the hall’ll be empty.”

Dave let out a quiet breath and followed Henry back through the hall and to the Brig. Dave shuffled his feet a little before entering his cell. A pang squeezed Henry’s heart at the sight. “Dave, I… I’m sorry.”

Dave looked back at him and rubbed his arm. “No, it’s fine. I fell asleep and probably, you know, made us late.”

“Not that. And that’s fine, I’m not mad about that.” Henry waved his hand, as if he could brush the thought away with a simple motion. “I just… you don’t deserve to be here. I’ll find some way to free you, okay?”

The former nightguard gave him a small smile. “…thanks, Henry.”

This was a hopeless cause.

* * *

# IRO

Saturday and Sunday were clear for him. Rather, he had something Sunday evening he volunteered to do, but he should be clear to go out all weekend. Currently, it was Friday, so Henry had time to plan. He also had some time to talk to Dad Reginald.

“I have a question.”

Dad Reginald, pausing in the hallway as he met Henry, raised an eyebrow. “You do? What is it?”

“Yes.” Henry’s heart stuttered and started to speed up. “So, when we leave, are we leaving this ship behind forever?”

“That is the plan, yes,” Dad Reginald answered. “We will have no use for it, and the cost of upkeep will become too much of a burden.”

Henry nodded. “And… I looked over the new plans a few times over. Everyone from the airship is going?”

“Yes.” Dad Reginald’s eyebrows knitted together. “What are you hinting about, Henry?”

“We’ve had that prisoner for a long time,” Henry said. “The, uh, cop or something. I… I don’t know what we do with prisoners? I mean, I helped Afanasiy escape, but I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen here. I-I mean, I know that’s not going to happen here, I’m not eleven. What will happen to him?”

Dad Reginald shook his head. “Eh, he does not take up too many resources here at the ship, but he will start to eat into attention we will need to be directed elsewhere. So, he will not stay a prisoner.”

Henry refused to feel the hopeful flare in his heart. “So… what?”

“Why are you so concerned about him?”

Henry shifted his feet. “I just… I know that the cop is different from Afanasiy, but I can’t help but feel that… you know… I ruined whatever plans we had for him. Afanasiy. But I also didn’t _know_ what plans we had for him, you know?”

“You are correct, those two are very different. We would have kept Afanasiy for a while longer. Until he proved completely useless at finding out information on our captive Clan members, we would have kept him. Once he proved useless, we would have killed him.” Dad Reginald gave him a shrug and a flippant wave of his hand. “That security guard has some use, I suppose. Nothing he has told us was previously unknown, but he has been compliant.”

 _Now_ Henry allowed himself to feel that little squirm of hope. Confusion rushed to meet him. “Wait, you were trying to get information from Afanasiy? I visited him pretty often, though. He never told me.”

“I’m surprised by that,” Dad Reginald admitted. “But you were not always with him. You must have found a way to learn when we interrogated him. In hindsight, your comfort and presence must have been keeping his sanity and courage bolstered enough to keep his mouth shut. No matter; we learned more from his actions than we ever could have through his words. Now, I am terribly busy. Good evening, Henry.”

“Good night, Dad!” Henry waved as Dad Reginald left. Okay, so… that was… something…? Sort of. Yeah. Oh, no it wasn’t. They weren’t taking prisoners aboard the ship. So, what were they going to do with Dave? Was that such a hard question to answer? He was a security guard, for God’s sake! What can you do with a security guard who’s been a prisoner for some time, now? Still, it was all Henry had.

Henry thought over what he would need to say. Dave had just been so… he needed help. His help was in the form of certainty. So, Henry just needed to know for _certain_ wat was going to happen and then tell Dave. That wouldn’t be so hard. He knew for certain Dave wasn’t going to be their prisoner by December!

Evening came and Henry found Dave. He was still so… sad. The look was muffled as soon as Henry noticed, but it wasn’t completely gone. “So,” Henry began as he shut the door to his room. “I was talking with Dad Reginald.”

Dave perked up.

“I asked him about you, _kinda_. I asked about what would happen to our prisoner. And he said that you would be gone by December,” Henry stated. “He wouldn’t tell me anything more, but that just means that he hasn’t completely made up his mind and I may be able to influence him.”

“December? That’s a few months away,” Dave pointed out. “Is something happening in December?”

“Winter cleaning.” Henry shrugged. “It’s like spring cleaning, but he wants stuff packed up and organized and cleaned out before Christmas. One of said things is what to do with you. Currently, we don’t _know_ , but we do know that whatever happens, it’ll be in December. Or by December.”

Dave thought for a moment. “…thanks, Henry. That means a lot. Thank you.”

Henry smiled and plopped down on his bed. “Sure, dude. Any time!”

Dave sighed and sat down on the other bed. “Yeah. Any time. Thanks.”

“So, what’s up for tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got to introduce Ellie to Dave in CA, so heya!
> 
> Also, shrimp is great with noodles and most sauces.


	43. This Isn't Goodbye

# CA

Henry… was happy that Ellie got along with Dave. Ellie and Dave had so much more in common than Henry did with either of them. Ellie had so many stories of her time as a mercenary, laying down the law whenever necessary and chasing down bad guys. Dave’s life hadn’t been nearly as exciting, but he did sometimes go out on a police chase to catch criminals. Most of his time was spent at the Red Mesa Penitentiary, but he was occasionally called out when extra help was needed.

Henry’s only experience with the law was being punished by it. It shouldn’t bother him, Henry knew, but for some reason he did get… well, he pushed down the negative feelings he had. Ellie and Dave had proven to be quick friends, but Henry had been their friend longer than either knew the other. Henry was exhausted, getting about six and a half hours of sleep a night. Ellie didn’t have as many responsibilities as Henry, so she offered to help Dave, giving him nights where he could sleep for longer.

In the Toppat Clan, Ellie didn’t skip a beat. Her extraordinary skills honed through her years as a mercenary, ability to adapt, and fierce nature earned her promotions. She was a quick and successful thief. Her favorite part of the heists was the getaway–stealing a vehicle and racing around to the crew, getting away quick as lightning. Henry ran on way more than a few missions with her, earning them quite the reputation as a team. Though the Clan’s luck was down–jewels being randomly transported and more security appearing out of thin air–they managed. Henry half-wished they could work with Charles. Just like when they were younger, the Triple Threat. But that was an unrealistic dream, was it not?

Ellie had been in the Toppat’s ranks for a few weeks before she was qualified for leadership in smaller heists and support in larger ones that Henry could lead.

“Henry, we need to talk.”

Henry stopped, lowering the clipboard he was holding. Numbers and words scrawled across the paper, and he still held the pen as he rechecked his math. Ellie stood before him, and he started upon seeing a solemn look much heavier than he’d ever seen her wear. “Yeah, Ellie? What’s wrong?”

She tipped her head and ran her finger over a few of the petals on the flower in her hat. “Look, I… I really need to talk to you. Alone.”

Henry looked around. They were already mostly alone, though a few people were farther into the Warehouse. “I think this is as quiet as you can really get on this ship, but sure. Ah, I’ve got a big thing with Howie in just a few minutes.”

“Can it wait?” Ellie asked.

 _Well… probably not._ Henry and Howie had been planning on this mission for a while. Howie was a distraction–something he’d never done before–while Henry snuck in and cleaned the place out. Howie had been excited for a while, having never been on a heist before. It helped there was a place where Howie would be working with horses. The man he was to distract was a stablemaster and the horses he had would be the perfect topic of conversation to keep him away from the building where they kept some really nice shiny objects.

Still, Ellie was his friend, and her tone had an odd amount of seriousness he had never heard before. There _was_ a few minutes before he needed to meet with Howie, but every second of those minutes had to be used in last minute preparations. The mission he was taking with Howie wasn’t going to be that long, after all–a few hours to get into position, clean out what needed to be taken, and then leave.

Henry had a choice.

He could ask Howie to push off their heist for another day and follow Ellie (Is There LOVE in Your Heart?) or ask her to wait for the few hours it would take for him to come back (My Kingdom For a Ship).

* * *

# PD

Henry saw the last of his bandages, and none too soon.

“Henry.” Dad Reginald greeted him as he left the medical ward for the last time for at least a month. “How are you feeling?”

“Great!” Henry puffed, grinning and squaring his shoulders. He could _move!_ Finally! He could move without feeling the adhesive of the bandages pulling at his skin or the burn of his skin threatening to tear. He could use everything he had without fear of ripping something. He could work! Do stuff! Not be so damn bored!

“Good to hear,” Dad Reginald hummed. “Now, you have been transitioning well back to your old tasks. But you remember the rocket plan?”

Henry nodded.

“Good. Well, we are going through with it. In a few months, we should have all of our ducks in a row. Henry…” His voice trailed off. Quite suddenly, Reginald’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at something far past Henry. He shut his eyes with a short sigh. “Henry, I– _we_ have decided that it would be best for you to work with defense. Stay on the ground and make sure all of our forces and treasure is on the rocket before it takes off. If we _are_ attacked, I need you there fighting. We decided your talents would be better utilized on the ground rather than inside, where you would have been stationed previously. Is this understood?”

Henry desperately struggled to put down a grin as an overwhelming feeling of excitement swelled in his chest. “Yes, Dad! I won’t let you down!” _The thick of things! Ha! Dad Reginald_ couldn’t _put him on shipment duty, now._

“You will still be managing the shipments,” Dad Reginald put in sternly. “You are an important person, Henry, but you are that way for a reason and that reason includes–creates– responsibilities.”

“I-I understand,” Henry stated immediately. “I do.”

A weary smile found its way back on the man’s lips. “Good. I’m happy to see you well, Henry. Now, we have quite a lot to do in the meantime. I understand you’re busy this morning, but do you have time to stop by the Bay on the new shipment?”

“Yes, Dad. I have time, definitely. O-oh! Uh, actually, I have a question.”

Dad Reginald raised an eyebrow. “You do? What is it?”

“Yes.” Henry’s heart stuttered and started to speed up. “So, when we leave, are we leaving this ship behind forever?”

“That is the plan, yes,” Dad Reginald answered. “We will have no use for it, and the cost of upkeep will become too much of a burden.”

Henry nodded. “And… I looked over the new plans a few times over. Everyone from the airship is going?”

“Yes.” Dad Reginald’s eyebrows knitted together. “What are you hinting about, Henry?”

“We’ve had that prisoner for a long time,” Henry said. “The, uh, cop or something. I… I don’t know what we do with prisoners? I mean, I helped Afanasiy escape, but I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen here. I-I mean, I know that’s not going to happen here, I’m not eleven. What will happen to him?”

Dad Reginald shook his head. “Eh, he does not take up too many resources here at the ship, but he will start to eat into attention we will need to be directed elsewhere. So, he will not stay a prisoner.”

Henry refused to feel the hopeful flare in his heart. “So… what?”

“Why are you so concerned about him?”

Henry shifted his feet. “I just… I know that cop is different from Afanasiy, but I can’t help but feel that… you know… I ruined whatever plans we had for him. Afanasiy. But I also didn’t _know_ what plans we had for him, you know?”

“You are correct, those two are very different. We would have kept Afanasiy for a while longer. Until he proved completely useless at finding out information on our captive Clan members, we would have kept him. Once he proved useless, we would have killed him.” Dad Reginald gave him a shrug and a flippant wave of his hand. “That security guard has some use, I suppose. Nothing he has told us was previously unknown, but he has been compliant.”

 _Now_ Henry allowed himself to feel that little squirm of hope. Confusion rushed to meet him. “Wait, you were trying to get information from Afanasiy? I visited him pretty often, though. He never told me.”

“I’m surprised by that,” Dad Reginald admitted. “But you were not always with him. You must have found a way to learn when we interrogated him. In hindsight, your comfort and presence must have been keeping his sanity and courage bolstered enough to keep his mouth shut. No matter; we learned more from his actions than we ever could have through his words. Now, I am terribly busy. Good morning, Henry.”

“Good morning, Dad. Have a nice day!” Henry smiled and gave him a small wave as he left. After getting one in return, Henry headed for the Bay. There was still another hour until eleven, when most of the morning shipments were done being loaded or unloaded and required a second count. Still, Henry was technically on his last “slow” day, so he did have some time. That and he just needed to check up on Sherman and his rescue mission. They were doing one last jail break for a _while_ , and Sure-Shot Sherman was leading it.

_Dad Reginald didn’t want to take Dave to space as a prisoner._

So, this could mean one of two things. The first was that Dad Reginald wanted him killed before take-off. The second was that Dad Reginald… wanted him _gone_ before take-off. Dead was one way of being gone. Release didn’t seem like something Dad Reginald was on-board with doing to a prisoner they had for months, but ransom was just not realistic. Dave was still just a nightguard, a cop who’d been fired from his job for negligence. Too much heat for too little gain, especially this close to launch.

Maybe… maybe Henry could find some way to convince Dad Reginald to let Dave go? The man was a “nobody” as far as they were concerned, after all. He was compliant, and Henry knew very well he was a quiet and polite man, so there couldn’t be a case against aggression. He didn’t know anything about the Clan, so it’s not like he was a danger. Simple killing was a brute’s job, and Dave wasn’t worth anything for a ransom. Besides, it was far too late for that. Months too late, to be exact. So long as Dad Reginald didn’t already have a solid plan in his head, convincing him of the right choice should be easy!

…hmm… but if Dad Reginald knew Henry was incredibly bias, that might edge Dad Reginald on toward a more rash decision that could end in someone getting hurt. Henry didn’t want _anyone_ to get hurt, not Dave and certainly not the Clan. Maybe Henry should get some input first. Maybe get some advice from Ellie! She was a brilliant woman! Or, well, he _could_ talk to Howie. Howie was great with deals that benefitted all parties involved–even difficult deals. He sometimes dealt in ransoms, though ransoms _rarely_ held people, if ever. Howie was a Toppat longer than Ellie, longer than Henry, even. So, he should know a better way of resolving all of this! Though, Howie was _also_ not shy of letting Henry know his stance on how the prisoner should be treated. Henry was liable to get told that it “was the way of things” and not to mess around with it lest _Henry_ get targeted for being suspicious. Ellie would understand, having knowledge of the Clan and the outside world as well as Henry.

Henry might have time to go to both in case one blows him off, but he had a feeling if he went to Howie first the man might try to convince him to leave Dave be or, worse, could get scared Henry would try something stupid and Howie would tell Dad Reginald himself. Ellie would do no such thing, of course, but she would also probably _not_ let Henry go until the dust settled, which might take a while. He had a few minutes between meeting with Sherman and the Bay, so he really only had time to talk to one person now.

Henry had a choice.

He could go to Howie and recruit _his_ help (Wasn’t Me, I Was in Electric), or he could gain _Ellie’s_ help (And the Underground Will Go Empty).

* * *

# IRO

For the first time in months, Henry wasn’t visiting Charles’ apartment on base–either base as he’d moved recently–nor near the hospital in Nevada where Ellie was staying over at her parents’ place until she was healthy enough to continue working. They were still in Nevada, but in a small, nice hotel room near the Arizona border.

Henry strolled up to one of the doors and gave it a light knock. His suit and hat were no longer on him. Instead, he wore a dark gray, thin hoodie over a light shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

A short moment later, the door opened. Ellie poked her head out the door and grinned. “Henry~! Finally, we thought you’d gone and vanished into the wind again!” She opened the door wider with a flourish.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” Henry puffed, accepting her invitation inside. “In fact, I was more worried you wouldn’t be able to make it.”

Ellie shut the door behind him. “Oh? You think I’d abandon you?”

“No, I thought you’d hurt yourself and then the medical staff would lock you in patient jail or something.”

Ellie considered this. “You… have a point. Well, look! Not hurt!” She threw her arms up in a showy manner and winced. She set a hand on her side but quickly let go. “Hnng… well, I mean, I’m not chasing down any criminals at the moment.”

“Hey!” Charles peered out of the living room. He grinned upon seeing Henry. “It’s great to see you again, Henny!”

“Henry,” he corrected.

Ellie’s eyes grew wide and he could see the stars in them. “Henny. Oh my _God_ that’s way more adorable than Papa Hen.”

“Ellie, _no!_ Charles!” Henry’s complaint went unheard as Ellie chanted the new nickname and Charles, having gone bashful upon realizing he’d spoken aloud, tentatively joined in. Henry walked into the living room with an overly loud, dramatic groan. “Charles, this is your fault!”

Charles laughed. “Oops?”

Henry plopped down on the couch and took out his deck of cards. “Okay, okay! Enough of that!”

Ellie snickered. “Charles, you’re a genius.”

The ace pilot cleared his throat, still having yet to find a way to put down the reddish tinge in his face. “S-sorry! Heh! Uh, so, uh, are you guys hungry? I mean, I made hamburger bombs if you guys are hungry.”

“And _I_ brought along my own sacrifices, too,” Ellie announced, nudging Charles. “But maaaaaybe they aren’t quite as nice as our dearest cook.”

“I mean, they’re an experimental recipe, so they might not be great,” the pilot bleated.

Henry got up. “Well, time to check this out. You aren’t blowing us up with these are you?”

Charles shook his head. “Definitely not. I didn’t use any actual explosives in them.”

“Then why the ‘bomb’ part?”

“I wanted to call them Hamburger _Buns_ , but the title, uh, got lost in translation,” Charles explained as he led them to the kitchen. He pulled a cake box off the counter and set it on the table. Within were three large biscuit-esc creations; smooth and shiny and golden brown, in an upside-down dumpling shape. “Basically, I had a hamburger, took away the buns, and then wrapped it in a biscuit. So, I cooked the meat and condiments together, wrapped it up with some cheese in a biscuit, and then popped it in the oven. It’s my own biscuit, which is why it’s bigger, and I egg-washed it.”

Henry picked up one of them. The bottom was flat, with a curled pattern as if it had been twisted shut and then cooked. “Huh. Where’d you find this?”

“I found ideas online. One of them talked about stuffed dumplings and I knew you liked hamburgers, so I just thought to combine them,” Charles admitted. “Ellie got us some drinks.”

“Did I!” Ellie brought out a bag with individual lemonade and juice, water, a 2-liter of orange soda, orange sherbet and a bottle of alcohol. Henry didn’t see the brand from behind the ice cream and plastic bag. “My mom makes these amazing orange smoothies. I finally wore her down, like, a week ago and she taught me. You can control how much you put it in, so none of us will be driving, but you can straight up drink soda if you want.”

Charles brought a few reusable cups and plates from the counter. “Cool! I don’t think I’ve had those before.”

Charles brushed his shoulder against Henry’s as the movie continued. A drowsiness started to creep up on Henry. Man, he’d had a long day. A nap might be nice.

Henry jolted awake as Ellie got up from beside him. With a “Be right back!” she was gone, walking to the bathroom on the other side of the small space. Henry gave her a little wave. Okay, no sleeping. Maybe after the movie or something. He was a little tired of being the first to pass out.

“Hey, Henry?” Charles asked, his voice low.

“Hmm?”

“I, uh… I’m glad you’re here,” said Charles. “You know, it’s really nice to have you back. Legally.”

Henry smiled a little at that. “Aw, well, it’s nice to see you again, too.”

“We haven’t, uh, talked as much. Lately.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Well… I guess? I mean, we talk on Discord almost every night. Why?”

The pilot chuckled. “Oh, yeah. You’re right.”

“You okay, man?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Definitely.” There was a crack in his voice, and he cleared his throat. “Just… you know… been… crazy, lately. You know?”

“Heh, yeah. Lots of things happening at once.” _Like that rocket plan. Wonder if the government will catch onto that._

“You know, General Galeforce got a promotion. I, uh, well, he’s letting me test out some, uh, prototypes,” Charles went on. “It’s… yeah, it’s great.”

“Military prototype aircraft?” Henry prompted. _Hope it isn’t about spacecraft. Why would it be? There aren’t any military bases in orbit or on the moon._ “Nice!”

“Yeah, it’s great!”

“What kind?”

“Uh, I’m not supposed to say,” Charles admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh… probably wasn’t supposed to, uh, tell you about there _being_ prototypes, y’know? Heh.”

Henry raised a hand. “Alright. Won’t tell a soul.”

“Th-thanks, man.”

…

The pilot cleared his throat. “So. Uh, Henry. I wanted to, um, talk to you. Er, ask you something. We’re, uh, already talking.”

“Uhhhh, sure? You feeling okay?”

Charles nodded. “Yeah, definitely.” A slight pause met his words. Henry didn’t say anything, so Charles continued. “Yeah, so. You know we’ve known each other for pretty much forever. We’re best friends and I feel like, you know, we know each other.”

Guilt wiggled deep in his chest. _No, Charles. You don’t_.

Charles went on, a pinkish hue warming his features, his pretty green eyes focused elsewhere. “And, I got really worried when you just disappeared. B-but you came back! So, it’s okay! I don’t think you’re a bad person because of it. Uh, but I’m really happy you helped us out in the airship and now, you know, the General kinda respects you, you know? We get to be friends out in public again.”

Heh. Charles _really_ liked to ramble when he was nervous.

“B-but, anyway, that’s not the point.” Charles cleared his throat, still looking anywhere but Henry. “I wanted to ask you something. I said that already. Sorry. Um, okay.” Charles took a deep breath and turned to Henry. “I really like you, Henry. Like, a lot. More than, y’know, I like Ellie or my other friends here.”

Oh. _Oh._

“And, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Charles managed to say, even though Henry could _see_ his courage start to break. “I really, you know, like you. We’ve spent so much time together and I feel like, especially lately, that I really like you. I was wondering if, you know, if you felt the same?”

Ooooooooookay. Of everything Henry could have imagined Charles saying, that was not one of them. Where, where had _that_ come from? Charles being–well, Charles was his best friend, and at least he _thought_ that’s what they were. That’s how Charles felt. He’d never imagined–

But Charles felt that, knowing only what Henry allowed him to know. He was an ace pilot, steeply loyal to the military. Henry was an average Joe working at tech support with a knack for trouble. That wasn’t true. Charles’ opinion of him would _definitely_ change if he knew just what Henry was.

Charles started to say something but stopped himself. Oh, Henry should answer him.

Henry had a choice.

He will admit to everything (Protagonists and Heroes) or he’ll say he’s just not the same. (Ohana Means Family)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ellie, in "Toppat Recruits," would totally climb the ranks very quickly. She has a lot of what Henry has, and some he doesn't (like the Force), just like Henry has some stuff she doesn't (like going back in time). She and Henry's teamwork would get them places. So, I showed it here. Even in a route where she wasn't invited by Henry, she was not at all slow about settling in or forging on ahead.
> 
> So, the next document (posted Monday, December 21st, 2020; 12/21/2020) is going to hold all the endings. All six of them, which I totally finished months ago and did not procrastinate the last three until over the weekend so RIP the quality, no way. It'll be in a post called "Different Story, Different End" as the next in the series in which DPDS is in with the same posting schedule, except the individual chapters of every single ending will be posted at the same time. (Six chapter updates at the same time so each chapter can have it's own title and note section) _I'm also working on "Off the Beaten Path" which is going to be an airship compared to the helicopter that is DPDS, but I'm not even a quarter through it, so I'll probably announce a "launch" date in a "trailer" at some point in the future._
> 
> Also: In stories, I mainly do ships by story progression; I let them develop on their own. I very rarely plan out a ship at the beginning. This is mostly because I'm not good at/I don't like romantic subplots and am just now getting into them. That also means some crazy super-specific ship that would NEVER work in canon (that I might not even like in canon) could happen here. ([Henpan](https://www.deviantart.com/venomquill/art/Henpan-864390835)? Fiddauthor?) However, regardless of all the ways of writing it, I'm just not a Stickvin fan. At all. I don't hate it, I won't actively avoid it (most of the time) but I don't like it. I've always thought of them as bros. In Chapter Twenty-Six (Goodnight) I originally planned it to be an _Ellie_ -based chapter, at least the beginning. ([Here it is](https://sta.sh/08jltrdp6wf) if you wanna see it.) But the polls really said Stickvin was the way to go and there were even people who actively disliked the Henry/Ellie ship. Regardless, I had a blast implementing some things and taking out others. Even adding things I normally disliked and taking out ones I actually liked was an interesting challenge. I looked for y'all's input and I didn't lie when I said I'd take it into account.
> 
> Unfortunately, some things just... don't work out the way people think they do. After all, you can't mix oil and water. Or sulfur and water.


	44. (Announcement?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end! :D!!!

Should I put this here? I'll delete this in, like, a week, anyway.

So, the ending has officially been posted! "[Different Story, Different End](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28152027/chapters/68980002)" at your service~!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mon/Wed/Friday! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Updates every Mon/Wed/Friday 12:00 PM Central Standard Time/6:00 PM Greenwich Mean Time
> 
> [I made a poll for the future](https://forms.gle/juV7a7qbZpvtKCSh8). I would like to know what you guys think about the game itself and where the future of this story should head! I have a [second poll](https://forms.gle/ByddH12nUWYUdoKy5) now, as well for the home stretch! These two polls are the same ones in Chapter 8 (Bell Rings) and Chapter 15 (Copter).


End file.
